


Weasley Family Fallout

by WeasleyObsession



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, Alcoholics Anonymous, Bonding, Complicated Relationships, Depression, Divorce, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Roller Coaster, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Family Drama, Fights, Grief/Mourning, Gryffindor, Healing, Hogsmeade, Hurt/Comfort, Leaky Cauldron, London, Loss, Love, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Physical Abuse, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-War, Protective, Protectiveness, Separations, Shell Cottage (Harry Potter), The Burrow (Harry Potter), Three Broomsticks, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:22:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 165,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22038502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeasleyObsession/pseuds/WeasleyObsession
Summary: The war is won, Fred is dead, Percy has failed to come back, all the other kids have temporarily moved back home, and emotions are running high at the Burrow. Who gets into a big fight? What horrid thing happens, or almost happens? What will the consequences be? Will there be a divorce? Whose side will each family member take? Most importantly,will the Weasleys be able to fix this? (Also on FFN and Wattpad)
Relationships: Angelina Johnson & George Weasley, Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Arthur Weasley & Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Audrey Weasley & Percy Weasley, Audrey Weasley/Percy Weasley, Fleur Delacour & Bill Weasley, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	1. The Fight

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for Entire Story: Alcohol Abuse, Minor Violence, Physical/Mental Abuse, Depression  
> Disclaimer: I do not own HP or any of its characters.  
> 32 Chapters so far; I will have them up asap.

The war was won three weeks ago, and Fred was buried shortly thereafter. Even though Arthur, Bill, and Fleur had all returned to work, life at the Burrow was far from normal. All the kids had moved back home for the next few months, except Percy who had failed to reconcile with his family, even after Fred was killed. Harry and Hermione were staying there as usual..

All the Weasleys had changed in one way or another. Tempers and emotions were running high amongst the family. Fred's death, Percy's failure to come back, and the stress of the whole of the war had been tough on everyone. The person who had been affected most was Arthur, though he didn't show it…or at least tried not to.

As the patriarch, Arthur was expected to be the tower of strength for his family during this difficult time. He was expected to hold his family together and make everything better. After so long, this can wear even the strongest of people down.

The weeks wore on and Arthur was spending more and more time in his shed. Molly and the kids knew where he disappeared to every day. None of the kids dared ask him why or what he was doing in the shed. They decided it best to leave their father alone.

Molly noticed that as time went on her husband had changed. He was acting completely opposite of how he was in the days following the war and Fred's funeral. Anger and frustration were the only emotions he showed nowadays…well, except for the little bit of depression he tried to keep hidden.

On the few occasions where Molly asked what was wrong or why he always went out to the shed, Arthur replied with his temper or a simple "Nothing" Sometimes when she kept badgering him about it, a new hole would end up in the wall. She thought she knew one of the reasons for his isolation, though.

The truth was, after always having to be strong for his family, Arthur was worn down; he couldn't keep up the façade anymore. He felt better when he was alone and away from his family in his shed with a bottle of Firewhisky in hand.

On Thursday, a month after the war, Arthur returned home from work early. When Molly asked him why, he responded with a shrug and headed straight to his shed. He needed to escape from his emotions, from the pressure his family unintentionally put on him, from everything. There was only one way he knew how to escape without showing his weakness – he wasn't supposed to show weakness.

Arthur was sitting in his shed with his back to the door, staring out the window that framed the rolling hills, holding a bottle of firewhiskey. This had become a regular occurrence whenever he was home. Sometimes he would sit out here for hours on end before finally forcing himself togo inside.

Arthur was taking a drink from the bottle when he was surprised to hear a knock at the door. He hadn't even been home an hour, and no one ever bothered him out here.

He ignored the knock, hoping whoever it was would leave him alone, but, unfortunately for him, the door creaked open.

"Arthur?" Molly asked tentatively.

He didn't turn around at the sound of his wife's voice, but let out an exasperated sigh.

"Arthur?" Molly said a little louder and moved a little closer. She saw the firewhiskey in Arthur's hand, but, honestly, she wasn't surprised. This is what she suspected he was doing. She could always tell he had been drinking after coming in from the shed or even coming home from work.

"What?" he snapped, still not turning to face his wife.

"Please come inside. I'm worried about you."

He still didn't turn to look at her, but shifted his gaze to the table in front of him and said, "I'm fine."

"Arthur Weasley, you are _not_ fine." She moved closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder, "Now, pl-"

"Don't. touch. me." The tone of Arthur's voice was soft, but it didn't hide the bitterness..

"Ar-"

"Molly _, please_ ," he warned.

She left her hand on his shoulder and said sternly, "Not until you look at me."

" _Moll_ -"

"- _Look_ at me, Arthur," she demanded.

Arthur sighed and reluctantly looked up at his wife who was now standing beside him. She had never seen so much anguish in his eyes. That wasn't the only thing she saw though; she saw anger, though she wasn't sure what he was angry at – her interruption, himself, or something completely different. It was a bit frightening; whenever she had looked into her husband's eyes they had always been warm, soft, and loving.

Molly had seen the anger and sadness in his eyes over the past few weeks, but they were never like this. The only other time she had seen his eyes this anguished and angry was right after Fred died.

"Arthur, you're not fine," Molly whispered, tears springing into her eyes. She hated seeing him in so much pain.

Arthur took another swig from the bottle and looked back at Molly. "Yes, I am."

Molly watched as he stood up and walked to the window that framed the house. He placed his hands on either side of the window frame and bowed his head while letting out a shaky breath.

"Arthur, if you were fine, you wouldn't be out here drinking every day!" Molly's temper was rising and she was becoming impatient with him.

"How do you -" Arthur had raised his head and was looking out the window now.

"- I know because we've been married for thirty years and every time you're upset or need a break you come out here and grab the firewhiskey." What Molly said was true, but that was rare and Arthur never did that several days in a row. It was never this bad. "Besides, it's clear in the way you act and you reek of alcohol when you come in the house, and I'm sick of it!"

"Well, what do you expect me to do, Molly?" Arthur yelled as he turned to face her, his temper rising too.

"I've tried getting you to talk about it, but, apparently, you like sitting out here pouting too much!" Molly shouted back.

"Pouting?! _Pouting_?!" Arthur gave a mocking laugh. "That's what you think I've been doing? Excuse me if I want to escape and forget how things are!"

Hearing the ruckus, Bill, Fleur, Ron, and Hermione came out of the house, and Harry and Ginny came out of the garden, meeting the others on the back steps. They saw Arthur through the window and Molly through the open door. It seemed they were glued to where they were standing. They'd never seen their parents fight like that. Sure they'd seen them argue, but not fight. All they could do was watch, shocked and a bit scared. Their father had never been this angry.

Molly and Arthur didn't notice their audience, too engrossed in their fight.

"Well, while you've been out here being selfish and _forgetting_ ," venom dripped from the word, "you should have been in the house helping your FAMILY because we're going through the same damn thing you are! We lost Fred too."

"I know, and I have _tried_ helping, but there's only so much I can do!" Arthur turned around, took a deep breath while running his fingers through his hair, and turned back to Molly. He said, more calmly now, "This isn't much of a family anymore, now is it." It wasn't a question as much as it was a statement.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Molly asked breathlessly, a hint of hurt in her voice.

Arthur scoffed. "Like you haven't noticed?"

"No, Arthur, I haven't! The only thing I've noticed is you always being drunk!"

"Well, let's go through it, shall we? Bill doesn't talk much anymore. Charlie runs off to Merlin knows where every morning and doesn't come back until right before dinner. Percy," Arthur growled and clenched his fist, " _Percy_ didn't come back when Ron, Bill, George, or I almost died! And he didn't come back when Fred _did_!...And Fred's dead, Molly. Our son is dead." Arthur's anger and anguish was past its boiling point. In one fluid movement, he turned around and threw the bottle at the wall and watched it shatter into a million pieces before turning back to his wife.

Molly swallowed hard. The rage in Arthur's eyes scared her. She'd never seen her husband this upset or angry; she'd never seen anyone this upset or angry.

"Continiuing…It's not like George is here anymore! He stays locked up in his room except for meal times, and even then it's not like he's really here! Ron doesn't eat anymore! He always used to be hungry, but now he barely eats anything! Ginny's just as bad as Bill! And you – you don't help any!"

" _EXCUSE_ ME! _I_ don't help any?" She had been letting Arthur blow off steam because he'd needed to talk about why he was so upset, but now he had crossed the line.

"No - No, you don't! You hardly sleep! And you act like everything is okay, but then you - you bring everything back up! You could at least not talk about it around me."

Molly cut him off. "I'm trying to help you, Arthur!"

"Maybe I don't want help, Molly. Maybe I don't want to remember! Maybe I want to forget what that bloody war turned our family into!"

"You'd rather forget and let this family fall apart than -"

"- This family has already fallen apart!"

"Well, maybe if you had cared and helped a bit more-"

"I do care! How _dare_ you say I don't? Why would you even say that?"

"Well, with the way you're acting...and you could at least attempt to help –"

"I _tried_ , Molly! I tried for weeks. I did my best and nothing helped. There's only so much I can do. You expect me to be able to handle everything – to fix everything, but I can't!" Arthur hit the wall with the side of his fist and let out a deep breath, looking at the ground.

Molly didn't know what to say. She couldn't say anything even if she did know. Had she been relying on him too much? She had always expected him to take control whenever something bad happened. The snake attack didn't even seem to faze him. He was always able to fix everything and pull the family through…until now

"I don't think I can do this anymore, Molly," Arthur continued quietly after a minute or two, still leaning with his fist on the wall and staring at the ground.

"Do what anymore?" was all Molly could manage.

Arthur looked at her. "This, Molly." He gestured around them. " _This_."

Molly felt a glimmer of hope, thinking Arthur was talking about coming out and drinking in the shed every day. Her hope was shattered when he elaborated.

"I can't keep seeing my kids like this. I can't keep arguing with you. I can't keep _pretending_ everything is okay. I can't stay in this _bloody house_ anymore!" His voice rose with every sentence. Arthur paused and almost whispered, "You know, if I am making things so much worse, maybe you'd be better off without me."

Bill kept a straight face while he watched the fight. Ron had lost all color in his face. And tears were now silently streaming down Ginny's face. Harry, Hermione, and Fleur stood like statues, unable to move.

Bill, Ron, and Ginny wanted to do something, but they knew better than to intervene. It was bad enough when they interrupted one of their parents' minor arguments. There was no telling what would happen if they got in the middle of them now.

Tears silently slid down Molly's face now. She slowly made her way over to Arthur and put a hand on his chest. Arthur watched her warily as she did so. Molly looked up into her husband's eyes, preparing to apologize for putting so much pressure on him. "I didn't reali-"

Arthur interrupted her with a deadly quiet tone, "I told you not to touch me." He shoved past her and made his way to the door.

Molly turned with him and followed. "Arthur, where are you going?"

He didn't respond, but walked out of the shed. Still, neither of them noticed the kids on the back steps fifty feet away. Arthur was looking at the ground in front of him and Molly was looking at Arthur, trying to catch up.

"Arthur!" But he kept walking. " _Arthur_!" Molly caught up with him a short distance from the shed door and grabbed his wrist.

Everything happened so fast. He wrenched his hand out of her grasp, grabbing her wrist in the process, and raised his free hand as he spun around, fire burning in his eyes. Bill, Ron, and Ginny immediately took off to the spot where this scene was unraveling.


	2. Sinking In

Everything happened so fast. He wrenched his hand out of her grasp, grabbing her wrist in the process, and raised his free hand as he spun around, fire burning in his eyes. Bill, Ron, and Ginny immediately took off to the spot where this scene was unraveling.

Arthur's demeanor immediately changed and his expression softened when he saw the hurt and frightened look on Molly's face, realization of what he had almost done sinking in. He let go of her wrist and dropped his other hand as this sunk in. What happened? Why did he grab her wrist? How could he raise a hand against her? Arthur would never hurt his Molly.

"Molly, I – I –" Arthur stammered, but he couldn't find a way to explain himself; how could he?

As Arthur was trying to put his words together, all three kids came to a halt beside their parents; Ginny stopping next to her Mum, Ron next to his Dad, and Bill between his siblings. All three of them were furious at their father. Arthur looked at his three children with a shameful expression while Molly couldn't take her eyes off her husband

"Maybe we wouldbe better off if you left, _Dad_." Ron spat out his father's name.

Arthur looked between his three kids before turning back to his wife. "Mollywob-" he began before she cut him off.

" _Don't_ call me that." She took a deep breath. "Ron's right. Maybe it would be better off without you. Even you said that, and you were leaving just now anyway."

"You know I would never do that to you."

"I'm not so sure what you would or would not do anymore."

"But -" He reached for her hand, but before he could do so, Bill stepped in the way.

"You heard her. Get your stuff and leave." Arthur didn't move. Was his family actually telling him to leave his house? He couldn't believe it. " _Now_." Bill pointed to the house.

This time Arthur did as his eldest son commanded. He made his way to the house and upstairs to his and Molly's bedroom.

He closed the door and began pacing, running his fingers through his thinning hair. How could he let things get so out of hand? How could he do that to his Mollywobbles? They really are kicking him out. Well, Molly was right. He was going to leave of his own accord…but would he have stayed away?

Arthur got so frustrated and upset he couldn't hold it in any longer he screamed and punched the wall. Leaving his hand in the hole it had made, he rested his head against the wall and let the tears overcome him. He had held everything in for so long that it finally spilled over.

He wasn't able to get ahold of himself for quite some time. When he had finally calmed down, he dug a bag out from the back of the closet and shoved some of his clothes in – not all of them but enough for a week just in case. He wasn't sure how long this would take to blow over…or even if it would blow over. God, he hoped he hadn't messed up so bad that he wouldn't be able to come back. They had never had a fight like this. He had never gotten that angry before. Molly and the kids had never gotten that angry with him…..Molly had never told him to leave before.

He went into the bathroom and put his toiletries into the bag, and made his way to the stairs. As he walked down the steps, he heard someone say, "Dad?"

It was George.

He had come out of his room because he had heard his father's upset and angry outburst. "Dad, where are you going? What's wrong?"

Arthur didn't answer, but kept walking. How could he tell George, of all his kids, what happened – what he did – what he almost did? George was already been through enough. He heard his son's footsteps behind him, but continued to the door, avoiding eye contact with Harry, Hermione, and Fleur in the kitchen.

When Arthur exited the house, he looked over at his wife and three of their kids. He could tell his kids were still infuriated, so he gave them a wide berth.

Arthur came to an abrupt halt. He had caught Molly's eye. He could still see the hurt, scared look in her eyes and tears were still streaming down her face. He still couldn't understand how he could hurt his Mollywobbles so badly?

Molly could tell Arthur had been crying too. His eyes were red and puffy and his face was red. Whether his face was red because of that or his anger, she did not know…perhaps both? She couldn't help questioning if she had made the right decision by making him leave. Would they be able to patch things up? How long should she make him stay away? Would he even come back? He was already going to leave, and she and the kids had made it clear that they didn't want him there.

Their gaze was broken after a few seconds when Ron, Bill, and Ginny noticed their father had stopped walking and hadn't disapparated yet.

"Oi! What'd she say?" Ron pulled out his wand while taking a few steps toward his father.

With one last longing look at his wife, Arthur turned and disapparated with no clue as to where he would go.

ooOoo

George followed his dad down the stairs, but when he reached the bottom, the door had already slammed shut.

He then turned to the three people sitting in the kitchen – Harry, Hermione, and Fleur – with a silent question

All Harry said was, "Just go outside." None of them were going to get in the middle of this. Sure, they would have their own opinions, but they would publicly have to side with their significant other.

As George stepped outside, he saw his mum with Bill and Ginny halfway between the house and the shed, and Ron was a few feet away from them, putting his wand away, as their dad disapparated.

George approached his mother and siblings. As he got closer, he saw that his mother was crying, and heard the end of their conversation.

"No, Bill, I'm fine. It was my fault anyway. I shouldn't have bothered him," Molly told her eldest with a strained voice and tears still running down her face.

"Mum, you're not fine and none of this is your fault. Besides, that's what you two were fighting about, except he was the one saying he was fine," Bill responded.

"I just need to be alone for a bit."

Ginny stopped her mother from walking away. "Mum, that's exactly what started this. That – that jackass just wanted to be alone and it snowballed into this mess."

Molly gave her kids a questioning look.

"We saw the whole thing…and just about heard all of it too," Ron said.

"There's no telling what would have happened if we hadn't stepped in," Bill stated.

"Can someone tell me what's going on?" George finally spoke up. Who were they talking about? Who was going to hit his mum? Surely it wasn't his dad.

Everyone gave a start and exchanged nervous glances before turning to George. They hadn't noticed him standing a few feet away.

"Umm – w-when did you get out here? Why are you out here? I mean – you never leave your room nowadays." Bill stammered. George had been through enough. He didn't need to know what had happened. But how could they hide it from him?

Molly took this distraction to sneak into the house unnoticed.

"Tell me what happened first."

"Mum and Dad had a fight." There, that should be sufficient enough. Maybe he didn't have to tell George everything.

"So? They've been arguing a lot lately."

"This was different." Ginny cut in.

"How could it be different? They've been arguing about the same thing for two weeks."

"It was still about him always being in the shed, but this one was bigger. This one wasn't an argument; it was a fight. We heard them yelling from in the house." Bill decided his brother would find out the whole story one way or another, thought he wouldn't tell him how their father blamed the family for his problems.

"I've never seen Dad that angry, and I've only seen Mum that angry a handful of times." Ginny had mixed feelings about her father. She was angry with him, but she still loved him. This was the man who raised her, yet…it wasn't.

"Oh. Well, where did Dad go? He wouldn't just leave." So this was the biggest fight his parents had ever had, but George didn't believe his father would just walk out, especially after how upset he seemed.

"Who cares where the bastard went?" Ron said under his breath. He didn't care if this was the man who raised him. He didn't act like it anymore. Besides, no matter who it was, he wouldn't let them hurt his Mum.

"I care and, apparently, you three still haven't told me everything."

"Honestly, we don't know where he went and I don't care either." Bill took a deep breath. "Mum told him to leave and he said he was going to leave before that anyway."

"Why would Mum ask him to leave? I mean – I get that they had a fight, but still."

"The S.O.B was going to hit Mum, that's why!" Ron couldn't hold back his anger any longer.

" _Dad,_ " George put an emphasis on the word to correct hi younger brother. He didn't care what they claimed his dad did, he still wanted to show him respect, "would never hurt Mum. That's not him and he loves her too much."

"You weren't out here. You didn't see what happened. You didn't see what he almost did!" Ron's temper kept rising.

" _Almost_ , Ron. _Almost_." George kept his composure. "He didn't hit her -"

"- Only because Bill stepped in the way. He was drunk, George. His hand was raised. You don't know what happened because you keep yourself locked in your room!"

"RON! Stop!" Bill knew how his youngest brother's temper was. He knew Ron would say something he would later regret.

"Well, I don't believe you. He's never hit her before. He's always directed it at a wall or something else…I'll be in my room – where I always am." With that George turned and started for the house. He really didn't believe his siblings.

"George, wait." Ginny ran to catch up with her brother.

George turned around. "What?"

"Why did you come out of your room? I'm not complaining. I'm glad you came out, but I'm curious as to why?"

"I heard Dad in their room. I wanted to find out what was wrong."

"What do you mean 'heard him'? How did you know who it was?" Ginny asked.

"How could I not hear him?" George looked somber and continued quietly. "He hasn't cried like that since right after he found out about Fred."

Ginny didn't say anything, but adopted George's somber expression.

At that time, Bill had gotten Ron to calm down and they approached George and Ginny.

"I'm sorry, George. I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just angry." Ron apologized.

George nodded, took a steadying breath and continued to answer Ginny's question. "Anyway, I didn't figure Mum could hit the wall that hard."

"That just proves he was going to hit Mum."

George went into the house without another word. He wasn't getting into another argument.

"Ron, don't be thick. If he actually was going to hit her, he wouldn't have been so upset afterward." Ginny retorted.

"That, or he was mad that we were kicking his arse out."

"Didn't you see how ashamed he was, Ron?" Ginny asked.

"He was ashamed because we caught him!"

"He was ashamed because he realized he had almost done something terrible!" Ginny's temper was rising now too.

"He wouldn't have stopped and realized it if we hadn't shown up! He's changed, Ginny! You need to understand that!"

Ginny couldn't think of a comeback. She couldn't disagree with Ron's statement. She wasn't even sure her father would have stopped if they hadn't shown up, and he had changed a great deal.

"I agree with Ron, Ginny. There's no way of knowing what would have happened, but that's not the man who raised us." Bill settled the matter.

Ginny wasn't sure what to believe now. She was torn; she wanted to believe that her father wouldn't have hit her mum, but it looked like he was going to and there had been other close calls during her parents' smaller arguments recently.

"I'll go start dinner." Ginny went into the house, followed by her brothers.

ooOoo

When Molly entered the house, she kept her head down to avoid making eye contact with anyone as she headed for her bedroom,

She closed the door behind her, her fingers brushing against the busted sheetrock where Arthur punched the wall. She examined it closely. Not only was the sheetrock busted, but it was also quite bloody. Some blood had even dripped down the untouched wall below the hole.

Would Arthur really have hit her if their kids hadn't intervened? No, she saw the look on his face; he wouldn't purposely hurt her. Did asking him to leave set him off? Or could he not hold his emotions in any longer? And why did it look like he left his hand in the hole for a few minutes?

She heard her kids yelling outside, but she couldn't referee right now. Anyway, Bill could handle it.

Molly turned to the room. The closet door was standing open and some clothes had been dropped on the floor. Half of the closet was a mess, actually – Arthur's half. She could see he had left some of his clothes. Was he planning on coming back or could he not fit those in his bag? Maybe he left those for her to remember him by?

The fight and trying to determine what all this meant was too overwhelming. Molly slid down the wall and sobbed. Even though tears had escaped while she was outside, she wasn't able to let it all out.

After half an hour, Molly got up and went into the bathroom to get a cool rag to wipe her face off with. When she thought she didn't look like she had cried for the past hour, she went downstairs to start dinner. She hadn't realized how late it was – it was nearly 6:30.

She saw Bill, Ron, and Harry in the sitting room when she reached the bottom of the stairs. She figured George was in his room again, and it was always 6:45 when Charlie got home. The girls were no where to be seen.

The three boys looked up at her.

"Mum," Bill started as he stood up, closely followed by Ron.

Molly cut him off, "I'm fine now." She tried to smile, but ultimately failed.

"Okay," Bill said even though he didn't believe her. "Ginny, Fleur, and Hermione are working on dinner."

"Oh, now I just feel terrible, making them fix supper. I should have paid attention to the time." Molly hurried off to the kitchen to help.

Bill and Ron sat down. Their mother always tried looking on the bright side and tried convincing them that she was fine even when it was clear she wasn't.


	3. A Helping Hand

Arthur found himself down a side street in Hogsmeade. After looking around and taking in his surroundings, he realized he was standing outside the Hog's Head.

He wasn't sure how he managed to apparate there without being splinched or why he even came to this spot. He hadn't been thinking of anywhere in particular, just that he didn't want to see anyone he knew and that he wanted to completely forget what had happened. In that case, this was the perfect spot; the only person he knew at this pub was Aberforth, but they didn't really know each other, and it was the perfect place forget things.

He slowly entered the pub and scanned the room for anyone he knew. He didn't recognize anyone, except Aberforth who was behind the bar. He hadn't expected to see any familiar faces due to the pub's reputation.

Arthur took an empty stool at the bar and ordered a firewhiskey. It was odd because he was used to drinking straight from the bottle and not a glass. He was already finishing his second glass when Hagrid and Charlie walked in half an hour later.

"Hey, Charlie, isn't tha' yer Dad?" Hagrid nodded his head toward where Arthur was sitting at the bar.

Charlie looked at the middle-aged, red-headed man who was sipping his drink at the bar. "Yeah. Yeah, it is," Charlie replied as he made his way to his and Hagrid's usual table. He wasn't surprised to see his father drinking, but he was surprised to see him at the pub. Usually, his Dad drank in the privacy of his shed.

"Shouldn' we check on him?" Hagrid asked. He knew this was odd behavior for the Weasley patriarch.

"No. He doesn't look like he wants to be bothered. Come on."

Neither man spoke as they took their seats and ordered their drinks. After they got their drinks, Hagrid inquired, "Tell me, wha's goin' on, Charlie? You don't seem surprised tha' he's here."

"I'm not, honestly."

"An' why's tha'?"

"Well, I am surprised to see him here. He normally only drinks at home, or tries to hide it when he's in public," Charlie said as he and Hagrid studied Arthur who was still drinking steadily at the bar. It was clear to them both that he was slightly drunk.

"Is he alrigh'?" Hagrid asked after a few minutes of silence.

"I don't think so, but we don't ask him about it. Mum's tried to, though."

"Has Molly gotten through to him? Surely, she has. If anyone can it's her."

Charlie shook his head. "No. They've been arguing a lot lately. Most of the time, her asking him questions is what causes the arguments. There are even a few holes in the wall." He turned back to Hagrid. "He's…changed."

Hagrid nodded his head in understanding, and said solemnly, "I see…Do you think this has anything to do with Fred?"

"That may be the root of the cause, but I think it's more than that. He just won't tell anyone what it is," Charlie said as he stood. "Well, I gotta get home. Mum'll have dinner ready soon."

"What abou' yer Dad?" Arthur hadn't moved from his barstool since Charlie and Hagrid had arrived.

Charlie shrugged. "I guess he'll come home when he wants to, and I wouldn't bother him if I were you…I can tell you want to. Anyway, see you tomorrow."

"Can't I try to see what's wrong?"

"You can do whatever you like, but don't say I didn't warn you. " Charlie exited the pub and disapparated.

Hagrid watched Arthur for a few minutes before approaching. He was starting his fourth glass of firewhiskey, Hagrid noticed. Arthur had apparently been drinking a lot since he was capable of drinking that much in an hour with only showing minimal signs of intoxication.

"Arthur," Hagrid addressed as he came to stand next to the troubled man.

Arthur looked at Hagrid, startled that someone he knew was there. He gave the half-giant a curt nod without saying a word and returned to his drink.

But he wasn't getting rid of Hagrid that easily. "Arthur, what are yeh doin' here? Yeh should be at home, with yer family."

"Hagrid, it is none of your business why I'm here or what I should or should not be doing," was Arthur's blunt reply.

Hagrid was taken aback by Arthur's tone. He wasn't sure what caused this sudden rudeness. He hadn't seen Arthur since Fred's funeral and he'd never been around the man when he was drunk, so this change in Arthur's personality could have been because of the war and his son's death or due to the fact that he was intoxicated. Hagrid would have to be stern with him either way.

"Well, I'm makin' it my business," he said roughly. "Charlie told me what's been goin' on, how you've been drinkin' and actin' lately. So, I'm tellin' yeh to get yer act together and go home ter Molly an' yer kids, Arthur."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"I will when yer actin' the way yeh are."

Arthur turned and locked eyes with Hagrid. "Fine. I would, but I can't…especially not now."

"Yeh can't, my arse," Hagrid retorted. "There ain't nobody stoppin' yeh from goin' home." His voice boomed throughout the pub, bringing everyone's attention to the red-headed man and the half-giant at the bar.

Arthur stood abruptly, swaying slightly and knocking the stool over as he did so. " _Look,_ you don't know what's happened or what I've been through, so I _suggest_ you stay out of it," he snarled.

"I was only tryin' ter help," Hagrid replied indignantly.

"Oi!" Aberforth interrupted the confrontation. "I'm goin' to have to ask you two to leave if yeh don't settle down."

Arthur downed the rest of his firewhiskey in one large gulp and said, "That's fine, I was just leaving anyway," before storming out of the pub. Hagrid stayed a few more minutes.

When Hagrid left the pub, it was dusky outside and the street lamps had cut on. As he looked down the side street, he saw a man leaning against a building, but could not determine his identity due to the shadow cast on his face by a nearby streetlamp. The man was not looking at him, but staring at the ground

"'Ello?" Hagrid called, approaching cautiously. It was still dangerous to approach unidentified witches and wizards because there were still Death Eaters loose.

The man raised his head and looked at Hagrid. He relaxed as he recognized the man as Arthur Weasley, but he was still apprehensive because of their encounter a few moments ago.

"Look, I'm sorry." Arthur was the first to speak. "I understand you were trying to help…but you don't know the situation, and I don't want to talk about it."

"That's alrigh'. I shouldn't've been in yer business. But yeh know yeh can trust me if yeh do want ter talk about it."

"Thank you, Hagrid…I'll just say Molly and I got into an argument – well, a fight, really – the biggest one we've ever had, then…she told me to leave." He would not elaborate…He was still too ashamed of himself.

"Yeh need ter try an' fix it."

"I know, but the kids keep getting in the way and won't let me near her. They, especially, wouldn't let me talk to her if I show up drunk."

Hagrid gave Arthur a quizzical look. Whatever Arthur had done must have been terrible. He thought back to what Charlie had told him about Arthur hitting the wall and always drinking. Could he have gotten drunk and hit Molly? Surely not, but the only way of knowing is if Arthur told him.

"Well, yer their father, so yeh have authority over them to let yeh do what yeh want, and Rosmerta has some Sober Up Potion, so –"

"- Hagrid, I'm afraid it's not that easy. The kids are behaving according to the way Molly and I raised them, and they're acting like true Gryffindors. What they're doing is," Arthur stopped. He never thought he'd have to say this in his entire life, "They're protecting Molly…from me."

Hagrid was shocked. He never thought he would ever hear Arthur Weasley say anything along those lines.

When Hagrid didn't respond, Arthur continued, "I hurt her. I actually hurt the woman I love. – Not physically," he added, "Well, almost physically. Merlin, how could I do that?" He squatted, put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands as realization hit him again.

Hagrid took a knee next to Arthur and gently placed a dustbin lid sized hand on his shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance. "Bu' yeh didn' though, did yeh? Yeh can fix this," he said reassuringly.

Arthur slid his hands up his face and through his hair to rest them on the back of his neck. "No, I didn't, but I'm not sure if I would've stopped if the kids hadn't stepped in. I won't even be able to trust myself around her…You didn't see how scared she was. She was terrified…terrified of _me_."

"Yeh can't think like tha'. Yeh have ter at least try to fix this. Yeh can't just give up. Yer goin' ter stop drinkin' an' yeh won' have to worry abou' that."

"...But I've lost my temper before, and I was completely sober when that happened. And what if I can't stop drinking? Or if Molly doesn't give me another chance?"

"That's in the past, yer goin' ter do yer best, and I'm sure she will," Hagrid answered. "An' yeh know where ter find me if yeh need help."

Arthur nodded, and both men stood. "Alright. You're right. Let's get that potion from Rosmerta and I'll see what I can do."

Hagrid walked with Arthur to The Three Broomsticks to get the Sober Up Potion. After it took effect, Arthur thanked Hagrid and apparated back to the Burrow.


	4. Telling Charlie

Bill, Ron, and Harry had just sat back down when Charlie came in the front door.

"You're home early," Ron told Charlie.

"Only by a few minutes," Charlie responded while he took off his boots.

Bill looked over his younger brother. "Say, where do you go every day, Charlie?"

"Out," he replied quickly. "So, dinner almost done?"

"Probably in twenty minutes. Where do you go?" Bill repeated.

Charlie pretended he didn't hear his brother's question. "Are we waiting on Dad?" he tried taking the attention off of himself. That was a bad topic to change to, though. because Ron's anger spiked again.

"What? That sorry excuse for a father? Hopefully, we won't have to see him for a while," Ron spat.

"How'd you know he wasn't here?" asked Bill

"I saw him. What did I miss?"

"Where'd you see him at?"

"Hogsmeade," Charlie said, not specifying in order to avoid revealing his own daily activities.

Harry spoke up. "Why were you in Hogsmeade?" It was a friendly inquiry. All he knew about Charlie was that he loved and trained dragons. He was curious what the second oldest Weasley child did when he wasn't around dragons.

"It doesn't matter. We're not talking about me," he snapped. He looked to his older brother for information on the day's events. "Bill?"

Bill thought of a way to put it vaguely to keep Charlie from blowing up. He figured his brother wouldn't take the incident lightly. "He and Mum got into a fight. Then she kicked him out."

"They've been fighting. Why was her reaction so different this time?"

Before Bill could say anything, Ron burst out, "Cause the bastard almost hit her!" The mention of his father angered him, and he couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Hey! Calm down," Charlie commanded, then turned to Bill. "I thought he's been directing his blows at walls."

"Well, he aimed this one at her," Ron answered again, this time more calmly.

"Wait. What? He would never do that." Charlie didn't want to believe what he heard.

"Ron's exaggerating a bit," Bill explained.

"No, I'm not," Ron protested. "You were there. You saw it!"

Bill gave Harry a look that said, "Please get him out of here."

Understanding and thinking quickly, Harry said, "Ron, why don't we degnome the garden before dinner? You enjoy that." It was enjoyable, but it also helped Ron calm down, getting to take his anger out on the pesky creatures.

He looked at his best friend quizzically. "We just finished."

"I'm sure a few found their way back." Harry grabbed his upper arm and pulled him off the couch. "We are degnoming the garden again."

Reluctantly, Ron followed Harry.

Taking a seat on the vacated sofa, Charlie asked, "So?"

Bill gave him an accurate account of the afternoon's events, glancing at the kitchen door every so often to make sure their mum wasn't about walk in. The last thing he wanted to do was get her upset again.

After Bill finished, Charlie sat quietly with his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands, processing what he had just learned.

Bill watched him closely, trying to determine his mood and what was going on inside his head. He hoped his little brother wouldn't explode with rage; he knew Charlie, Ron, Ginny, and their mum had the worst tempers of all the Weasleys.

Everything that had just been relayed to him was difficult to comprehend. His dad was always laid back and the least violent person he ever knew. Well, up until recently anyway. But he never imagined his father even threatening to lay a single finger on his mum. The thought of _anyone_ daring to do such a thing angered him. This was his father, though, the man who was supposed to love and _protect_ his mother…

This made Charlie furious.

Apparently he was doing a great job at controlling his emotions because Bill couldn't read him like he usually could.

"Charlie?" he asked cautiously.

"Hmm?" He raised his eyebrows, but continued staring at the coffee table.

"What are you thinking?" Bill prompted his brother.

Charlie leaned back. "I'm thinking he doesn't even care. I saw him at the Hog's Head getting wasted…Next time I see him…" he trailed off then took a deep breath.

George came down the stairs. Having heard Charlie's last statement, he said, "I think he does care, and that's why he went to the pub. You think maybe you should hear his side of the story before judging and making assumptions? He was really upset before he left."

Bill crossed his arms and looked at him with a disbelieving expression. He scoffed. "George, you're also making assumptions, and you didn't even see it."

"I am not. You told me what happened and I heard what occurred from both Dad and Mum after the fact because these walls are paper thin and neither of them cast silencing charms. I'm just not making any presumptions before I hear both sides."

"So, you're actually condoning his behavior?" Charlie said incredulously.

George sighed in frustration. "Neither of you listen…Is dinner almost ready?"

Bill checked his watch. "Should be."

George left his brothers. He didn't want to hear any more of what they had to say about their father and he wanted to check up on his mum.

"What does Ginny think? She's not as naïve as George, is she?" he asked Bill. "Well, she is 'Daddy's Little Girl', though. He can do no wrong in her eyes," he mused.

"Ginny is," Bill said slowly. "She's confused. Ginny believes what George said, but I think she knows it was highly possible Dad wouldn't have stopped…She'll come to her own conclusion soon enough.

"She better come to the sensible conclusion," Charlie muttered.

The kitchen door swung open, startling both young men. Molly stepped into the sitting room with a smile on her face.

"Oh. Good, Charlie, you're home," she said cheerfully. "Get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Bill, will you find Ron and Harry and let them know?"

Her two oldest sons stood to do as asked.

"Sure, Mum," Bill said before heading to the garden to gather his youngest brother and his best friend.

Charlie hesitated, though. Instead he went over to his Mum and wrapped her in a big hug. At the same time, he was surprised by her demeanor but he expected it.

He stepped back and held her at arm's length, looking her over and smiling a little when he didn't find any evidence of harm. He couldn't think why anyone would want to hurt this woman; all she ever did was love and care for her family, even now she put on a happy face when everyone knew how she really felt.

His smile broadened. "Love you, Mum," he said quietly, his love for his mother causing his anger toward his father to temporarily subside.

"I love you too, Char," she replied, beaming back at him. "Now go get cleaned up. You're always filthy when you get home," she repeated, patting his arm.

"Okay. Be down in a few," he called back as he took the steps two at a time.


	5. Punches Are Thrown

Dinner was not as boisterous an affair as usual. Everyone had to watch what they said to avoid setting off tempers or upsetting Molly. They attempted light conversation in order to have a somewhat normal dinner.

Everyone was finishing desert when a pop of apparition filled the quiet house. As one they all looked out the window to see Arthur pulling the garden gate together behind him.

Charlie was the first outside. The sight of his father brought his temper back in full force. Bill, Ron, and Ginny were close behind him; Bill out of concern that Charlie would do something rash, and Ron, like Charlie, out of anger towards his father. Ginny had taken into account what Bill and Ron had said earlier and was now leaning more toward their point of view on the situation.

Charlie pulled out his wand as he approached his father. "How dare you? I swear if you don't leave right now…" Charlie snarled.

Ron and Ginny outran Bill and reached their father seconds after Charlie had. Ron had his wand aimed at his father, also. Even though she was only sixteen, Ginny drew her wand but didn't aim it; she would use magic if she felt it necessary - It's not like she would be expelled for underage magic after fighting in a major battle against Voldemort, right?

Bill thought it best to hang back a few feet to see what would pan out. He was half hoping one of his siblings would hit their dad with a hex, but he promised himself he would step in before things got too heated. Molly and George were the last out of the house. They both decided to hang back with Bill. Harry, Hermione, and Fleur stayed in the house.

With three wands pointing at him Arthur backed up against the gate, dropping his bag and holding his hands up in surrender.

"Kids, please just put your wands away."

"Why don't you make us?" Ron threatened.

"I'm not going to raise my wand against my own children," Arthur said indignantly.

"So you'll raise your hand against your wife but won't' raise your wand against your kids?" Charlie said.

"Well, actually, I don't think he meant to," George chimed in.

"Just tell us why you're here," Bill said. "None of us want to see you,"

"I'm just here to talk to your mother," Arthur said calmly, lowering his hands and relaxing a little.

"I don't believe this! You think you can do what you did, go out to a pub for a few hours, and expect us to let you talk to her? You're even more drunk now than you were!" Charlie accused.

"Okay. I'm not going to deny that, but I'm not drunk right now," Arthur defended himself.

""Don't lie! I saw you! You were drinking firewhiskey like it was water."

"Hagrid talked some sense into me and I took a Sober Up potion before coming here. I'm thinking clearly now –"

"- But you didn't even care that you hurt Mum -" Arthur's face paled at the sound of these words; sure everything was a bit fuzzy, but he didn't think he had actually hurt her. "- All you could think about was getting hammered."

"No, I – what," Arthur's voice was faint. He looked over Ginny's head at Molly. "M-Molly, I - I – but – I _actually_ hurt you?"

Molly nodded slightly, tears glistening in her eyes. This was all very upsetting, hearing what Charlie had just said, remembering what happened earlier that day, seeing how distressed Arthur was.

"If you can't even remember what you did then you really better leave," Ginny said.

Arthur didn't take his eyes off Molly. "No, I remember what I did. I just didn't think I actually hurt you. I didn't mean to, honestly. Molly, I'm sorry. I know I've been saying that a lot lately, but you have to believe me, I really am sorry." His voice grew thicker the more he spoke.

"That's what scares me, Arthur. I know you don't mean to, but you keep doing this and you keep apologizing and it keeps getting worse. You are always either drunk, or angry, or both. That seems to be the only emotion you ever show anymore…You're not the man I married." Molly took a deep breath. "This can't keep happening. I can't keep doing this, Arthur." Molly couldn't look at him a minute longer. She turned and headed back to the house.

Arthur swallowed hard. "Molly. Molly," he called after his wife, but she didn't stop. "I want to fix this, for good! I don't want to do this anymore either. Help me change, Molly, please. I don't want to throw away thirty years over this."

Molly disappeared into the house. She couldn't help thinking about what Arthur said. Did he really want to fix things? Did he really want to change? Should she trust him? He had already blown several chances she had given him.

"Molly! Please!"

He tried shoving past his kids, but before he could get past them, something hard collided with his abdomen. He fell backward onto the ground, clutching his stomach. He had just enough time to see George pull Ron back before his second oldest son lunged at him.

"Can you not leave her alone?" he growled.

Arthur tried shielding himself from his son's fists.

"Stop. Get – off!"

Finally, Bill and Ginny were able to wrestle Charlie off their Dad. George was still holding on to Ron.

Bill turned to his brothers. "What the hell was that?!"

"He deserves it!" Charlie panted.

"Yeah. He better be glad I only got to hit him once. He'd be a lot worse if George hadn't grabbed me," Ron said as he yanked his arm free from his brother's grasp.

"Whether you think he deserves it or not, you don't go through with it!" Bill scolded them.

"He's lucky I didn't use my wand. He'd probably be in Mungo's by now," Charlie said under his breath.

"Just go inside. _Now_ ," Bill barked.

Ron and Charlie did as they were told with one last glowering look at their father.

Bill, George, and Ginny turned back to their dad. He was leaning on an elbow and gingerly touched side of his face with his other hand. Blood trickled down from his temple, his lip was busted, and his nose was broken. The few punches Charlie got in did quite a bit of damage, not to mention his gut still hurt from Ron's hit.

George walked over to give his dad a hand up.

"Thank you, Son," Arthur grunted as he stood up and brushed himself off.

"You're welcome, Dad."

As Arthur turned to his eldest, he saw Molly through the kitchen window and they held each other's gaze for a few seconds,

"Bill, please let me talk to her. I really do want to fix this."

"I find that hard to believe. Besides, I don't think that's a very good idea, what with Ron and Charlie, and I'm with them on this. I don't think Mum wants to talk to you right now either."

"But – Bill, you don't understand how important this is to me."

"Important like all the other times you apologized and promised it wouldn't happen again?" Ginny scoffed.

"No, I really mean it this time. I've never actually hurt her before. It's never gone this far – it _shouldn'_ t have gone this far."

"No, sorry, but no. It did go this far, and if you come round again, I won't stop them. Now, I suggest you leave… and don't come back."

"At least tell me how bad I hurt her. I know I didn't hit her."

"You left a bruise where you grabbed her wrist and you scared her pretty bad." Bill started for the house before pausing and turning around. "Oh, and she cried in her room for an hour, too." He wanted to make his dad feel as bad as possible.

Arthur began pacing, running his fingers through his hair.

"Merlin, how could I do this?" he muttered. "I love her, and I hurt her. This is so screwed up and it's all because of me!" Arthur kicked the garden gate. "I'm not even able to fix it!"

"Dad."

Arthur gave a start at the sound of his son's voice; he forgot George and Ginny were still with him/

"It'll be okay. I know you didn't mean to. Look, I'll help you, but probably shouldn't try tonight, you know, tempers."

"Thanks, George, but you didn't even see what happened. How do you know I didn't mean to. I'm not even sure if I would've stopped," Arthur added quietly.

"They told me what happened, and I know you'd never hurt Mum on purpose. You should know that, too. There's no reason for you to question it. Besides, you love her too much."

"Right, you're right." Arthur nodded and blew out a deep breath.

"Here, Dad, let me fix your nose," Ginny said.

Arthur faced his only daughter, trusting that she wouldn't mess his nose up worse.. She pointed her wand at his nose and said, " _Episkey_ ".He rubbed his nose after it fixed itself.

"I thought you were mad at me too?" Arthur asked Ginny, confused.

"Well, I am, kind of. I'm on the line between the two…You promise this will _never_ happen again, unlike all the other times you said it wouldn't?"

"Yes," Arthur answered honestly.

"You really want to fix things?"

"Yes."

"Not gonna drink anymore?"

"No, I'm not."

"Gonna get your temper in check?"

"I'll do my best."

"You're being completely honest?"

"Yes, I promise. Completely honest."

"Alright, I'll help you too." She looked at George, "We'll have to be careful not to set anyone off, though."

George nodded.

"Thank you so much, both of you. Well, I see Bill and Charlie looking out the window now. I guess I need to go." Arthur picked up his bag and opened the gate.

"Wait, where are you staying?" George asked.

"I don't know. Hogsmeade is full up. I guess I'll check the Leaky Cauldron."

"Okay. Just be careful."

Ginny nodded in agreement. It was mostly safe, but there were still dark wizards loose.

"I will. Love you, guys."

"Love you," they responded in unison.

Arthur turned and disapparated into the cool night air.


	6. The Prodigal Son

Arthur checked if the Leaky Cauldron had any rooms, but they were also full. Tom, the bartender, had said all the Muggle inns in the area were full too, so Arthur didn't bother checking them.

Having no clue as to where he would go, Arthur set off down Diagon Alley, watching his feet as he walked. Diagon Alley had been restored and most shops had opened back up, but most were closed for the night and the cobblestoned street contained a trickle of shoppers and people going home from work.

When he finally stopped and looked up, he saw that he had walked all the way down to the joke shop. It looked odd being dark and closed up, not touched for weeks. He wondered if George would ever be able to go back now that Fred was gone. It was difficult for him to even stand there, so he set off again before his thoughts and the sight of the joke shop got to be too much.

Arthur wasn't looking where he was going when he bumped into a young man with red hair and glasses.

Arthur looked up distractedly at the stranger. "Oh, excuse me."

It took a minute for each to register who they were seeing. Once they realized who the other was, their attitudes changed immediately, and both stood tall and rigid.

"Father," Percy said pompously, giving a curt nod.

"Percy," Arthur replied with a stiff tone.

He began to walk away when Percy's voice stopped him.

"Wait…D-Dad is it too late?" Percy hated how childish his voice sounded then.

Arthur turned slowly, taken aback, to face his son. "You…you called me Dad." Percy hadn't called him that since he was in his third year at Hogwarts. The past few years it had always been Father. Arthur hated it every time Percy called him Father.

Percy nodded.

He studied his son before asking, "Is what too late?"

"Coming back. I was stupid and a git. You were right – all of you were right. I've regretted leaving, and I've been wanting to come back, but I've always felt it was too late. Almost everyone in the family has almost died since then and Fred –" Percy swallowed hard and finished quietly "- Fred did."

"No, it's not too late. Son, it would never be too late. You should've known that."

Percy walked over to his Dad and they held each other in a tight embrace, tears springing to both of their eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I really am. I-I love you."

"I love you too, Son. I played a part in all of this too, so it was as much my fault as it was yours."

They both hastily wiped their eyes when they pulled back.

"How's everyone holding up, by the way?"

"It's been rough." Arthur cleared his throat. "Especially on George."

"And Mum?"

"Well, you know you're mother. She's been keeping busy, trying to distract herself."

"What about you?"

"I'm fine," Arthur replied unconvincingly.

Percy nodded, though not believing his father.

After a short, awkward silence, Percy asked, "Are you alright?" gesturing to Arthur's bloodied face, stretched shirt, and the black bag he was carrying.

"Yes – I mean, I'll be fine." He waved off Percy's concern.

"Will you tell me what happened? Why you're out here so late. Why you're carrying a bag."

"No – no, I don't really want to talk about it." Arthur replied while scratching the back of his neck, avoiding his son's gaze.

"Come on, you can tell me, I mean I know I've not been around but…" Percy gently urged his father.

"It's not you, Perce. It's just…I'm ashamed of myself is all," Arthur mumbled.

"Oh, okay," Percy looked downcast. "Well, I guess you should get home and get all that taken care of."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right," Arthur said distractedly. "I'm glad we could work this out. I'm sure everyone else will be happy you're back."

"Do you think I could come by for a few minutes, tonight?"

"R-right now?" Arthur stuttered.

"Yeah. Is there something wrong with that? I mean, I don't have to tonight. I just wanted to see everyone, especially Mum. I was real ugly toward her –"

Arthur cut off his son's rambling, "No – I mean – it's just – well – I'm not going back to the Burrow tonight." He didn't want Percy to feel unwelcome, but he didn't want to tell him what happened either.

"What do you mean? Where are you going?" This didn't make any sense to Percy. Why wouldn't his father go home, especially after getting a beating like that.

Arthur thought for a moment, trying to figure out what to say without telling Percy about the fight. "It's not that I don't want to. It's that I…can't." He said this last word quietly. "And I'm not sure where I'm going, because everywhere is full."

"So that's why you have a bag." Things were starting to make sense to Percy, but not completely. Why was he all beaten up? Why couldn't he go home? What had he done to be so ashamed?

Arthur nodded.

"Dad, please tell me what happened."

He could tell Percy wasn't going to let this go and he would find out eventually, so he decided to get it over with, "Alright, but not out here. I don't want to be overheard."

"Well, my flat is just over there," Percy pointed to a green building down the road. He led the way to his flat. "And you can stay with me too, if you want."

"Thanks, Perce, but I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why not?"

"The family's a bit divided on this. I just don't want to put you in the middle like this and risk you not being welcomed back by everyone."

"Let me hear your side of the story and decide for myself, then we'll figure out where you're staying."

Arthur and Percy entered the flat a few minutes later. It was a nice little flat with a sitting room, one bedroom, a bathroom, and a kitchen with a small table. It looked like Percy was making a decent living.

"Dad, why don't you get cleaned up then we can talk. The bathroom is just through there." Percy pointed to a door across the flat.

Arthur got cleaned up and changed then joined his son at the small, round kitchen table.

"You look a lot better," Percy said. "You want some firewhiskey or butterbeeer or something?" Percy asked, walking over to the cabinet.

Arthur hesitated before replying, "No, thanks." Then added under his breath, "That's what got me into this mess."

"What do you mean 'that's what got me into this mess'?" Percy asked while sitting back down across from his father.

Father and son sat in silence. Arthur was trying to piece together what had happened that afternoon. He wasn't completely certain of the events that had led to his banishment from the Burrow – just that he had almost hit Molly.

Finally, Percy broke the silence, "Dad, what happened?" he asked, looking at his father inquisitively.

Arthur took a deep breath. "To be honest with you, I'm not exactly sure."

Percy scoffed. "How can you not be sure? It was just a few hours ago –"

"Yes, it was a few hours ago, Percy, but I was _drunk_." He paused, ashamed of what he was about to confess, "I have been almost all the time when I've been at home the past couple weeks."

"But, Dad, why? I've ever only seen you drink at social gatherings, and that was two butterbeers at most."

"Well, I began drinking a bit more after you left the family. I would just get so angry with you, with myself I just wanted to forget what happened even if it was just for the moment. As time went on, I didn't drink as much. But with time other events took place, and I would have a drink to relax…It was never a problem until these past couple weeks."

"…What caused it to be a problem?"

"Like I said downstairs, Fred's death has been quite hard on us all. I did my best to hold the family together, but it was all in vain. No matter how hard I tried, I failed at bringing back some sense of normalcy. As the head of the family, it is my job to protect the family, hold everyone together, and be strong when no one else can be…..and I failed at all of those things. I was unable to perform any of my patriarchal duties successfully. It was too hard for me to see my family in the state it has been in, and I got tired of having to constantly put on a façade. So I've been spending most of the time in my shed drinking whenever I've been at home."

Hearing this caused Percy to feel sorry for his dad. His dad felt like he had to be strong for the entire family, and felt that if he couldn't then he was failing his duties to the family. Percy placed his hand on top of his father's and looked him in the eyes, "Dad, no one expects you to be strong. We lost a brother, and _both_ Mum _and_ you lost a son. No one could have stopped that from happening. You haven't failed anything or anyone, and you need your own time to grieve too."

Arthur thought about his son's words for a moment then nodded. "I guess you're right. I haven't really thought about that. Thanks, Perce."

"Well, they wouldn't have kicked you out just for drinking. What did you do?" he asked tentatively.

Arthur leaned forward and put his face in his hands. Tears were stinging his eyes when he looked up at Percy. "We had a big fight and I almost –" He couldn't quite bring himself to say it - "I almost hit her." A solitary tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. "She was terrified…and I'm the one who caused her fear. I'm the one she was scared of."

"Oh, Dad," Percy breathed.

"That's not even the first time. There have been a couple other occasions where I got angry and hit the wall, but none of those were ever this bad and she had never been scared, just upset. She's been trying to help me and get me to talk about what's bothering me, but I'm not ready to talk and she doesn't understand that."

Percy was speechless. He had never known his father to be a violent man. His father was always loving, gentle, and open, not harsh and closed off. He stared at his father over the next few minutes, trying to understand. This made Arthur nervous.

"Please say something."

"You said everyone was divided on this?"

Arthur nodded.

"Why?"

"Ron, Charlie, and Bill think I would've actually hit her. George and Ginny don't. I'm not sure where your mum stands, though she did kick me out."

"Would you?"

"Would I what?"

"Have hit her."

"I'm…I'm not sure."

Percy continued to ask his dad a series of questions which were answered in detail. Arthur also went over what had been going on since the final battle and what had taken place that afternoon from start to finish, but avoiding talking about his feelings. This conversation spanned the next hour until Percy was satisfied and had no more questions.

Percy sat back and crossed his arms. He had come to his own conclusion.

"No." It was all he said.

"I understand."

Arthur grabbed his bag and headed for the door. Percy didn't move.

"No, you wouldn't have hit her."

Arthur stopped in the middle of turning the doorknob.

"I don't think you meant anything you said or did. I'll try to help, and you can stay here until this is all sorted."

"How you came to that conclusion, I don't know," Arthur said as he sat back down at the table, "but thank you."

"Tomorrow, I'll go over and talk to Mum. But, if you keep drinking and if I feel like you're not trying to fix this then I'll have to ask you to leave, and I will have to take Ron, Bill, and Charlie's side of this."

"You won't have to worry about that -"

Just then there was a light knock on the door.


	7. Getting Better?

Molly Weasley took a deep breath as she stood in the narrow hallway, her fist hovering in front of the door.

She had to sneak out of her own house; it was quite pathetic really, sneaking out of your own house. It's not like her kids could control where she went or what she did, but they would have asked questions and if they had known what she was doing they would have never allowed her to leave.

This was the last and least likely place she could think of that could possibly have any contact with her husband. Everywhere else she had searched was a miss – all the pubs, inns, and open shops she could think of. She doubted he would have gone to a friend's house or back to the Ministry.

Well, if Arthur wasn't here she could at least make amends with her son, even though, now she thought about it, he would have come back by now if he wanted to. She had to try at least, and if everything worked out, she could get him to check on his dad at work the next day.

Finally, she knocked.

There was no answer.

She knocked again, this time a bit harder.

Now a familiar voice answered from the other side. "Who's there?"

"It's me," Molly called back, hesitating from fear of his reaction before adding, "Your mum."

It took several seconds before the door opened slowly to reveal her estranged son, tall and handsome, and so grown up. She had to resist her instinctive urge to give him one of her legendary bear hugs, not wanting to get pushed away and hurt again. Percy would have to make the first move.

"M-Mum," he said nervously, glancing at something hidden by the door. "Um. What are – What are you doing here?"

Suspecting she had interrupted something, perhaps with a girl, she said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you had a visitor."

"No, you didn't interrupt anything. Is everything okay? How are you?"

"Um, yes. I'm fine. Actually, I had a favor to ask you."

"Wait. There's something I need to say first." He paused. "I'm sorry. I really am. Can you ever forgive –"

Before Percy could finish, his mum enveloped him in one of the biggest hugs he had ever gotten.

"Of course, of course." She stepped back and took his cheek in her hand. "You don't know how long I've wanted this."

"You don't know how long I've wanted to come back….but, uh, anyway. You had a favor to ask?"

Molly's cheerfulness faded almost immediately. It was clear something was really bothering her, and Percy thought he knew what.

"I was wondering if you could check on your father at work tomorrow. We had a fight this afternoon and I –"

"I know," Percy interrupted.

"What?"

"I know. I ran into him outside – quite literally, I might add. But, do you not want to check on him yourself?" Percy glanced behind the door again. There was definitely something going on that Molly didn't know about, but she ignored it.

"You saw him? How is he? I've looked everywhere for him, but I haven't had any luck."

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

Just then Arthur appeared in the doorway behind Percy.

"I didn't think you wanted to see me."

"I…overreacted."

"No, you didn't. That's exactly how you should've reacted."

Percy silently excused himself back into his flat in order to give his parents some privacy.

"I am truly sorry, Molly. What I did was…"

"Of course you are, and of course it won't happen again." Molly dismissed his apology. This had happened enough by now that she knew exactly what he was going to say. "Just come home. And let's work things out this time."

Arthur swallowed. "You know I'm not ready to talk about everything yet."

"We don't have to talk about everything. We can start with what you said in the shed."

Arthur turned his attention to his feet.

"I thought about what you said. We're not going to throw away thirty years, but in order to do that we have to talk." Molly lifted her husband's chin to look her in the eyes. "Whatever is bothering you is causing this. So, come home and let's fix this, once and for all."

He opened his mouth to protest but apparently thought twice about what he was going to say when Molly gave him a reassuring look. Instead, he nodded his head and agreed.

"It's too late to talk about things now, so the two of you come over after work tomorrow. I'll let the kids know what's going on, and we'll work everything out then."

"I'm not talking with them about what I said. Just you."

"We're not talking to them about that. We're going to talk about Percy," Molly lied. Their kids needed to know what was bothering their dad in order for anything to change. Maybe they even had some similar feelings about the last few weeks.

ooOoo

Whatever Molly had told her children, it worked. Although dinner was tense, everyone was civil and attempted light conversation. Percy was quickly accepted back by all his siblings, though Ron took a little longer. It was clear Ron, Charlie, and Bill did not want their father there; Ron and Charlie refused to even look at their father if they could help it.

After what felt like hours, dinner was finally over.

"Okay," Molly said as she cleared the table with the wave of her wand. "We've all had a rough go of it these last few weeks, and we've each coped with things in our own way. But it doesn't seem we've thought about how our actions affect each other."

Arthur thought he knew where this was headed...and he was right.

Molly continued. "Your father has –"

"Oh, don't go making excuses for him," Ron blurted.

Arthur leaned over to his wife and hissed in her ear, "I'm not talking to them about this. You said we wouldn't talk to them about this."

"That's the only way to fix this, Arthur," she hissed back.

"Well, you can fix it without me. I'll be upstairs." Arthur began to stand but Molly grabbed his hand.

"No, you're staying here." She gave him one of those you-have-no-choice looks. and he immediately sat back down, sinking as far into his wooden chair as possible.

She turned back to the rest of her family. "Look, I'm not making excuses for anyone. It's just about time that some sense of normalcy returned. There are several things that need to be discussed."

Opposed to other family meetings that usually lasted no more than twenty minutes, this one spanned an hour, much to Arthur's chagrin. No matter what was discussed, Arthur knew this meeting was centered around him. Charlie finally told his family that he went to help rebuild the castle every day, Bill and Fleur said they were planning on moving back to Shell Cottage within the month, and George confessed he wasn't quite ready to reopen the joke shop even though it was no secret. By the end of the meeting, everyone realized how their actions were affecting not only their father but their siblings as well, and they all agreed getting back to normal as much as possible was the best solution to these problems.

Things were finally looking up…or so it seemed.


	8. The Lost Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mention of Miscarriage

Rolling over in bed, Arthur groaned as he read the clock on the bedside table.

2:23 a.m.

He had been lying awake for nearly four hours. This is how it had been since he had returned home five nights ago.

Thinking about it, this shouldn't be happening at all. Everything should be getting better now that things seemed to have been worked out; Percy was welcomed back, they knew where Charlie was off to every day, all the other kids were doing their best at getting back to normal, and Arthur stopped drinking completely and did his best to keep his attitude in check…but something just wasn't right.

Molly didn't stir as Arthur got out of bed and slipped out of the room. Ever since they got married, one would wake when the other got up, but since a month ago neither sensed the other's absence. For the first time in thirty years, the perfect couple was out of sync.

With a flick of his wand, Arthur turned on a lamp in the kitchen then fixed two cups of hot tea. George would be joining him any minute now. Where Arthur would get sick of lying in bed around 2:30, George would get bored around 2:45. No one knew George had trouble sleeping until he startled his dad a few nights ago. So, father and son would sit at the kitchen table, sipping their tea and hardly saying a word. It's not that George didn't want to talk, but he could clearly see his dad didn't want to be bothered. Tonight would be a bit different, though.

"Dad?" George asked quietly, looking over at his father.

"Hmm?" Arthur didn't lift his gaze from his mug.

"I'm worried about you."

"I don't know why…Things are getting back on track."

"Things might be, but that doesn't mean you're getting better.. Around everyone else you smile and act as if everything is okay again, and they all believe it. But I see what no one else does, because you don't bother hiding it this late at night."

Arthur knew George was right. He had gone back to putting on a façade, but when he was alone, he took the mask off. The only reason he let his guard down around George was because he was too tired to keep up the act.

Arthur sighed then asked, "You haven't told anyone, have you?"

"No," George said because his father still wasn't looking at him. "But you need to at least talk to Mum about whatever this is."

Arthur didn't respond, so George put his empty mug in the sink and went back to his bedroom. He still had a question for his dad, but that would have to wait for another night.

**ooOoo**

The next two nights were spent like the first few: sipping their tea and not saying anything then going back to bed to finally fall asleep. Arthur thought about what George said, but he couldn't talk to anyone about what was bothering him, not even his Mollywobbles. It was evident to George that his parents still hadn't discussed this, because his dad's behavior hadn't changed any; in fact, it seemed to be getting even worse.

After half an hour of silence, George finally spoke up to ask what he'd been wanting to for a while.

"Dad…How long will this last?" he asked quietly.

Arthur wasn't sure what his son was getting at; he assumed it was about his own behavior, so his tone was a bit rough when he responded. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you and Mum have both lost brothers and other people you've cared about. I was just wondering how long I'll feel like this…If I'll ever go a day without missing him…If things will get easier."

As George clarified, he gained his father's full attention. Arthur wasn't expecting this; however, he should have realized one of his kids would eventually ask this. He set his tea down and stared at it for a moment before looking back at George.

The pained expression on his dad's face caused George to think perhaps he had asked the wrong parent. He knew this topic would upset his Mum, but he wasn't anticipating this reaction from his dad.

"To be honest with you, Son, it may never get easier." Arthur's voice was faint as he spoke. "The pain of losing someone eventually fades, but you may find yourself thinking about your brother or missing him nearly every day." He looked back at his tea. "I know I have, for twenty-three years."

George barely heard the last thing his father said; perhaps he wasn't supposed to have heard it. He made a few quick calculations in his head. No one in the family had died around that time. He knew most of his family's history, and it's hard to keep secrets with so many people. Gossip and stories were the main topics of conversation at all family get-togethers, so at some point he would have heard something that would give a reason for his dad's current mood. But he either couldn't think of it or was completely in the dark. Curiosity got the best of George.

"Who were you talking about?" George ventured, hoping he hadn't crossed a line.

Arthur thought for a few minutes, uncertain on if he should tell George the truth. The only people who had known were him and Molly, their parents, and Bill and Charlie, which the kids most likely didn't remember. Something urged him to open up. It had been so long since he had talked about it, he really needed to get it off his chest. He couldn't bring himself to look at his son, though.

"You have an older sister." Arthur drew in a shaky breath. "Well, you should."

George was speechless

"…She was stillborn, and after all was said and done, we agreed never to talk about her. And that worked for a while."

Even though Arthur fell silent, George sensed he really needed to talk about it now. He wanted to know more also. "What was her name?"

"Gracie." He hadn't spoken her name since he and Molly had decided to pretend nothing had happened. It felt nice to finally say her name again.

"That's a pretty name. I like it."

Arthur nodded, not trusting himself to speak. A lump had suddenly formed in is throat.

"Is that why there's four years between Charlie and Percy?"

"She'd be turning twenty-four this month."

Arthur couldn't hold it in any longer – He broke down. The only thing George knew to do was hold his dad tight, and Arthur clinged to his son. It was a long time before he could pull himself together, but that's what two decades of built up emotions does. George didn't let go until his dad did.

Arthur took several deep breaths and dried his face with his sleeve. "Sorry about that," he muttered. "I think I'll go back to bed."

"Dad," George stopped him before he could stand. "There's nothing to be sorry for. That must have been terrible to go through. And not talking about it probably didn't help any either. If you still need to talk, neither of us will be sleeping any time soon anyway."

They sat in silence until Arthur felt he could speak without bursting into tears again.

"Years passed and I barely thought about her, but as you all got older, I found myself wondering more and more often what things would be like, what she would look like, her personality, her career." He paused briefly. "That's the worst part now…not knowing."

"Can I tell what I think? I think Gracie would be a lot like you." Hearing someone else say her name brought tears to Arthur's eyes again; he was able to control it this time though. George wasn't trying to upset his dad more, but it was the truth. With how much Ginny resembled Molly, it was only logical to assume Gracie would be more like Arthur.

"There you are," Molly said softly as she entered the kitchen.

Not bothering to hide his disappointment at this interruption, Arthur said irritably, "Yes, here we are." The first time he had been able to talk about his baby girl who had been taken from him had been abruptly ended by the appearance of his wife.

"What is that you're drinking?" Molly asked.

"Tea," Arthur said casually.

"It's _just_ tea?"

" _Yes_ ," Arthur snapped back. "Do you think I'm lying?"

"I'm not sure what to think these days, especially when I get up to use the bathroom and find you down here every night."

"Mum, it is just tea, and he hasn't been doing anything he shouldn't," George broke in before things could escalate.

"You've been eavesdropping on us," Arthur accused.

"No, I haven't. But maybe I should have been since you're being so defensive."

Before George could open his mouth, Arthur shot him a warning glance. Quickly, George stepped back. This was the last place he wanted to be right now, but even though he trusted his dad, Arthur wasn't watching his temper at the moment.

"Or maybe it's none of your concern. Otherwise, I would wake you up and invite you to join us."

George came to stand behind Arthur and whispered in his ear. "Maybe you should talk to her about this. I said the other night you should talk about whatever's bothering you."

"This isn't what's been bothering me. _Nothing_ is bothering me! And I expect you won't say anything about tonight." Arthur pushed George's hand off his shoulder, mumbled something about going back to bed, and left the kitchen.

George looked at his mum. "You better not try blaming this one on him. Goodnight."

Molly stopped her son as he passed her and looked at him pleadingly. "What were you talking about?"

"Sorry, I'm not telling you. He told me in complete confidence. You know, he may have opened up to you if you hadn't come in here with an attitude." He left Molly by herself to think things over.

George poked his head in his parents' bedroom. Arthur was in the bed, facing away from the door.

"Dad, don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

Arthur didn't move or acknowledge his son.

"And if you ever want to finish that conversation…I'm here."


	9. Hello, Old Friend

The next evening Molly was at the sink while Arthur finished showering. All day Arthur had avoided her, which was fairly easy since he had "work". In order to avoid hitting a nerve, she let him have his way. After nearly nineteen hours of letting him cool off, she decided it had been long enough. Besides, she hated going to bed when either of them were upset.

"So, since you're off tomorrow I was thinking we could all go down to the village. It would be nice to get out of the house for a while," Molly stated casually.

Arthur didn't answer and continued drying.

"And Percy wants us to meet his girlfriend, so they're coming over for dinner," she went on. "He said he would cook and have everyone over, but his flat is too small to hold all of us."

Still ignoring his wife, Arthur began pulling on his pajamas.

Molly, annoyed, turned to face her husband.

"Arthur Weasley, you have ignored me all day. Look, I'm sorry about last night. Is that what you wanted to hear?" she said fiercely.

"I could care less if you apologized. In all honesty, you had every right to be speculative, but it's the way you immediately assumed I was doing something I shouldn't." These were the first words he had spoken to her since the night before, and they were sharp.

"Well, that doesn't mean you can give me the silent treatment all day."

"When you interrupt something that is very important to me, I can," Arthur replied, walking into the bedroom as Molly followed him.

"You always talk to George -"

"It's not who I was talking _to_ , it's who we were talking _about_." At these words, Molly's ferocity dissipated.

"Who were you talking about?" She paused briefly. "Fred?"

"No. Look, it doesn't matter anymore, Arthur said whilst climbing into bed, his wife doing the same.

"Will you at least tell me why I can't know?"

Arthur turned toward her and sat up on one elbow. "Because you don't want to talk about it."

"You don't know that."

"Yes. I do."

"How?" she countered.

"You told me a very long time ago," he answered before rolling back over and flicking his wand to turn the light off.

Arthur huffed in aggravation as the room filled with light once more.

"I may have changed my mind, but neither of us will know for sure unless you tell me."

Arthur sensed this conversation was beginning to turn into an argument, so he got out of bed and grabbed his pillow and wand.

"Where are you going?" Molly inquired.

"To sleep," he snapped. "I advise you to not follow me...Don't bother me in the morning either."

The house was silent, so Ron, Harry, George, and Ginny heard the steps creak before Arthur came into view. They watched quietly as he conjured a thin blanket. George and Harry moved into chairs when Arthur gestured for them to get off the couch.

"Uh...Dad?" Ginny spoke up.

"She won't stop badgering me," he grumbled.

"What did you do to get kicked out of the room?" Ron blurted. "Is she upstairs crying? I swear if you hurt her again..."

"Ron, don't even start," George interrupted.

"I didn't do anything. And I left on my own accord," was Arthur's rebuttal. "Why don't you kids turn in early tonight. You're going into the village in the morning."

"Okay. But are you not going with us?" Ginny asked.

"No, I don't want to go."

"Yeah, that or Mum just wants to get away from you for a few hours." Ron sneered. "I wish she'd just go on and divorce your sorry ass. Half of us don't want you here, including Mum," he finished as he exited the room.

Subconsciously, Arthur clenched his jaw.

"That's not true, Dad. He's just angry still," Ginny reassured, seeing how much Ron's comment had hurt him. "Good night."

George hung back and waited for the others to be out of earshot before saying anything.

"Do you wanna talk?" he asked.

"No."

"In a few hours then?"

"No. I'd just like to be alone tonight," his father answered quietly.

"Alright. 'Night."

OoOoOoOoO

His parents' bedroom light was on when he was passing, so Ron tapped lightly on the door before entering.

Molly looked up from her lap as Ron came to sit next to her on the bed. She hadn't been crying, but she was clearly distraught.

"What did he do?" her son asked gently yet forcefully.

"Nothing. It was my fault. He didn't want to talk and I kept pestering him."

Ron hated it when she blamed herself. She had just recently begun to do that. No matter what she thought, Ron believed everything that had been happening was due to his father.

"None of this is your fault, Mum. You have to stop doing this to yourself. Dad's being an arse."

"Don't talk about your father that way," Molly scolded, a glimmer of her old self peeking through.

"At some point you have to come to realize that he's turned into a total jerk!"

"Go to bed, Ronniekins," George commanded as he entered the room.

With a glowering look, Ron stomped onto the landing and up to his room.

"Hey," George said softly. "You okay?"

His mum nodded.

"Look, he's not even talking to me right now, so give him some time and maybe he'll open up to you."

Molly sighed. "Alright. I just hate seeing him like this," she admitted.

"I know...Now, try and get some sleep." George gave a weak smile.

OoOoOoOoO

After a fitful night's sleep, Molly was the first awake as usual, with the exception of Charlie. Upon entering the sitting room, her heart dropped as a strong stench of alcohol pervaded her nostrils. Before heading to the kitchen to start breakfast, she cast a charm to hide the smell.

Charlie was sitting in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee, and without even a "Good Morning" he said, "Dad's drinking again."

"It was one night," Molly defended her husband.

He set his cup down and leaned forward. "It won't be though. Before you know it he'll be back where he was a week ago."

"Not necessarily -"

"Mum," Charlie interrupted, "you don't need to turn a blind eye to this. As much as you want to deny it, it _will_ keep happening."

"I know. But I wish it wouldn't...Please don't tell anyone about this."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't," he challenged as he leaned back in his chair.

Immediately Molly replied, "Because I'm afraid of what will happen to the family if your brothers and sister find out."

Charlie thought for a while before sighing, and said, "Fine. But I'll be keeping a close eye out, and you have to promise that you'll tell me if he even comes close to hitting you."

"You have my word," his mum promised.

Molly set to cooking breakfast while Charlie kept her company, talking about the progress of repairing Hogwarts and how they should be done in a week or two thanks to the abundance of volunteers. When his mum told him she wasn't expecting him to still be home when she came down, Charlie said he wanted to take a day to spend with his family.

Before long, the aroma of pancakes and sausages filled the house, and everyone was at the table within minutes. They all took heed to Arthur's warning not to bother him, so he was the only one still asleep.


	10. Family Dinner

Having left the kids to their shenanigans in the village, Molly climbed the grassy slope that led to her crooked home.

Arthur was sitting at the kitchen table in his worn out blue house robe when Molly entered.

"Good afternoon, love," she greeted cheerfully as she made her way to the counter.

"Today was beautiful down in the village," she began as she started pulling groceries out of her bag which had an expansion charm on it. "The weather was very nice with a light, cool breeze every once in a while. The kids were about to go meet Percy and his girlfriend in Diagon Alley when I left."

Without a word of acknowledgement, Arthur stood up with his mug, chair scratching the floor, to leave the room.

"Arthur?"

His wife's gentle voice stopped him before he could open the door to the sitting room.

Without facing her, he replied, "I want to be alone." It wasn't an angry or forceful tone he used, but more of a defeated and tired one.

"Love -"

"Goddammit, woman!" he said angrily through gritted teeth. At the same time his mug began a vertical race to the floor where the prize was destruction. It took both of them by surprise as the shattering of porcelain rang throughout the quiet house as neither had expected him to throw it. "Can I not have any fucking time to myself?"

When no words of protest came, Arthur disappeared through the door, leaving a bewildered, and somewhat upset, Molly in his wake.

Molly made her way to the shattered mug. As soon as she saw him, she was suspicious of what he was drinking. Of course there should be trust in any relationship, but with Arthur getting drunk just a few hours prior and everything else that had happened in previous weeks, she had lost almost all trust in him. Before repairing the mug, she found a piece that had a few drops of liquid still in it. Molly dipped her pinky in the brown substance. Before tasting it, she noticed that it smelled only of tea. Contrary to her nose, her mouth told her a different story. It tasted strongly of firewhiskey with only a hint of tea. It was clear Arthur had used a spell in order to disguise his drink in case something like this happened.

She pushed her worries to the back of her mind as she went back to putting up groceries. There was no time to think about what she should do or what would happen now. The kids would be back in three hours with a special guest and she still had to straighten the house and cook dinner.

OoOoO

As pops of Apparition resounded through the house, Molly knew her gaggle of kids were home and, more than likely, very hungry.

Before she knew it, her kitchen was packed full. Luckily, most of the kids were only passing through to greet her then go to the sitting room.

Percy waited for the flood of redheads to die down before bringing his girlfriend to meet his mum.

"Audrey this is my mum. Mum this is Audrey," he introduced in a professional manner.

Audrey stuck out her hand, but Molly, unsurprisingly, went in for a hug.

As she stepped back, Molly beamed and said, "It's nice to finally meet you, dear."

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Weasley," Audrey reciprocated.

"Please, call me Molly," the middle-aged woman insisted.

Audrey smiled shyly.

Looking around, Percy asked where his father was.

Truthfully, Molly wasn't sure. She hadn't seen him since he disappeared earlier. To avoid suspicion from any of her children, she told Percy she thought he was up in their bedroom.

On his way upstairs, Percy left Audrey in the hands of his siblings, hoping they wouldn't scare her off.

Percy knocked lightly on his parents' bedroom door.

"I fucking swear, Molly…" was the answer he received through the door.

"Fa – Dad. It's me. Percy," the confused, bespectacled young man called back.

Nothing happened.

"Um. Is everything okay? Can I come in?"

As there was still no answer, Percy took the liberty of entering his parents' bedroom. What he saw next shocked him. His father had not gotten dressed yet and was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Dad, what are you doing? Audrey is here. You can't be dresses like this when I introduce you," Percy said, slightly panicked.

Arthur checked the time.

5:48. Was it already time for dinner? He wasn't even hungry, although he hadn't eaten anything all day. Nowadays he rarely had an appetite. After a couple minutes, Arthur sat up on the edge of the bed.

It was only then when Percy noticed how drawn his father looked.

"Are you alright?" Percy asked.

Arthur ran a hand through his already messy hair.

"I'm fine," he lied. "I'll be down in a bit."

With that, Percy took his leave. It was obvious his father wasn't being truthful with him, so he decided he'd ask his mum about it.

Before going to the kitchen, Percy checked on his girlfriend who seemed to be getting on well with his siblings, Harry, Hermione, and Fleur.

"Is everything alright, darling?" he asked.

Audrey gave a small start as she had not noticed Percy was behind her. "I'm wonderful," she replied with a great smile. "Your brothers are quite entertaining."

"Just making sure they haven't scarred you for life yet." He gave a small grin.

"Oi!" Charlie caught his younger brother's attention from across the room. "We only scar people we don't like, Perce."

The room exploded with laughter as this was mostly true.

Once the laughter died down, Percy told Audrey that he would be back in a minute then headed into the kitchen.

Sensing her son's appearance, Molly said, "Well, it sounds like everyone is having a good time. It hasn't felt like this for quite some time now. It's a pleasant change…Hopefully, it will stay this way," she added under her breath, but Percy still heard.

Putting two and two together, he decided not to beat around the bush, but to still be gentle. "Have you and Dad had an argument?"

Molly glanced at Percy before answering. "No. Why would you ask such a thing." She wasn't lying. It was had only been an outburst from Arthur earlier, _not_ an argument.

"I just - you know - checking how things are. What with everything that has happened recently," Percy stumbled over his words. He didn't want to tell her how his dad greeted the initial knock at the door. "Well, anyway…Is he ill?"

Molly stopped in her tracks. The seriousness of the way her son asked concerned and confused her.

"What do you mean?"

Percy furrowed his eyebrows. "You haven't noticed anything? He was still in his house robe when I went up there, and he looked exhausted."

"He shouldn't be tired at all. He slept all day," Molly informed her bewildered son.

"I guess we'll find out soon enough." Percy shrugged. "I need to get back in there. He'll be down any minute."

"Let them know supper will be ready in about five minutes, dear."

"Yes, ma'am."

Just as Percy announced that supper would be ready soon, Arthur entered the room. His appearance was completely different than upstairs; his hair was fixed, he wore his usual casual attire, and he didn't look tired at all.

This abrupt change took Percy by surprise. "Uh – Er – Oh, Dad, this is Audrey."

Audrey stood up and faced Arthur, extending her hand in the process. A broad smile spread across Arthur's face as he shook her hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Audrey. Hopefully this brood hasn't startled you too badly."

"No, sir, they haven't. I actually like the big family feel. I'm an only child, so it's a good change."

"Well, I'm glad." Then he turned to Percy. "Close your mouth, Son."

Percy snapped his mouth shut and a light blush crept up his cheeks. "Sorry," he mumbled. He hadn't realized his mouth was slightly agape. He was too busy trying to figure out what was going on with his dad.

At that time, Molly appeared in the doorway.

"Supper is ready," she said with a smile.

Before taking his seat, Arthur bent down and placed a chaste kiss on his wife's cheek. All through the evening it was like he was his old self. The only people who were confused were Molly and Percy because they had seen how he was acting earlier in the day. Everyone else, aside from Audrey, thought things were returning to normal.

Hours quickly passed. Percy and Audrey said their good-byes and thanked Molly for the meal. The others began getting ready for bed and, soon after, disappeared into their various bedrooms.

Once he and Molly were alone, Arthur let down his façade. It had been exhausting acting like nothing was amiss. This may have been a relief to Arthur, but for Molly it caused her emotional pain to return. She hated seeing him like this, and she hated the way he treated her whenever he was in one of his moods.

Molly decided to confront him again once they were in bed.

"Arthur…What is going on?" She braced herself for her husband's temper…It never came.

Arthur let out a heavy sigh. He had no energy to have an angry outburst. Instead, he mumbled something about not wanting to talk about it and that he was too tired to anyway.

"Fine then." It was clear that he was worn out. "You have to promise me that we will talk about it tomorrow," Molly said sternly. She wasn't going to let this pass. She would do everything in her power not to let him throw his last chance away.

Her husband was already half asleep, but he heard her. "Sure, sure. Tomorrow," he mumbled.

Satisfied, Molly was able to fall asleep slightly less concerned. He was finally going to open up.


	11. Misunderstanding

The next morning was quite calm. Arthur was in a better mood than usual, and Molly hadn't pushed the subject from the previous night. She hadn't even brought it up, letting Arthur approach the issue in his own time.

After breakfast, Bill and Fleur began packing their things in order to move back to Shell Cottage, Charlie left to help with Hogwarts, and the five younger ones had gone to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes to help George take a step forward. So when lunchtime arrived, the only occupants of the Burrow were the two oldest Weasleys.

Seeing as Arthur still hadn't mentioned anything from last night, Molly took it upon herself as they were eating their sandwiches.

"So," Molly prompted her husband, attempting to get the ball rolling.

"Sooo?" Arthur responded.

"You said we would talk today, and the kids aren't home so you don't have to worry about being interrupted or overheard."

Arthur set his sandwich back on his plate as he swallowed a bite.

"What are you on about?" he calmly asked, genuinely confused.

"Last night, you said we would talk today."

"About?" Arthur asked slowly, still not catching on.

Molly was becoming aggravated. He had to be trying to get out of his promise by playing dumb.

"I can't believe this," Molly breathed, exasperated. "What? Did you say that just so I would leave you alone? It is impossible to forget something that quickly."

She stood to clean up from lunch, taking Arthur's plate with his half-eaten sandwich as she did so.

"I'm not finished with that," he protested.

Molly ignored her husband as she threw his lunch in the bin.

Huffing, Arthur stood also. He made his way to stand behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her.

"Dear, will you please tell me why you're upset?" he whispered in her ear. "I, honestly, have no clue what you are talking about."

Molly breathed out heavily before answering. "When we were in bed last night you promised you'd tell me what was bothering you."

It was a good thing Molly had her back to him because at this Arthur clenched his teeth and rolled his eyes. Really? They were back to that? Since she hadn't brought anything up all morning, he thought he could go a single day without her pestering him. He kept calm though as he took a deep breath.

"I doubt I even registered what you were saying, Love. I was exhausted and probably almost asleep." Arthur let go as Molly turned around. "You know I'm still not ready."

"When will you be, Arthur? Because at this rate things will get as bad or worse than they were last week."

He couldn't protest. It was quite obvious how things were going what with the arguments they had had the last few days. At least she didn't know he was drinking again.

"Arthur, I know what you were doing yesterday morning, and the night before that."

 _Well, there goes that_ , Arthur thought. _I guess I wasn't as careful as I should have been_. He opened his mouth to say something, but Molly answered his question before it even left his lips.

"I'm the only one that knows, except for Charlie, but he promised not to tell anyone. That's only because he doesn't want to see this family go to turmoil."

"I haven't had any today," Arthur told her honestly.

"I know," Molly responded, knowing he was telling the truth. "Now, sit down."

Arthur did as commanded. Molly took a seat across from him at the table.

"Neither of us are getting up until you have told me at least one thing that's causing you to act like this."

"Oh, come on, Molly. You are not going to start treating me like one of the kids," Arthur said indignantly.

"I can when you act like one," Molly deadpanned.

The way his wife was treating him caused Arthur's anger to rise. He could tell if Molly continued, he would not be able to control his temper and this would turn into another argument.

"I'm going to work," Arthur said as he stood and grabbed his cloak.

Molly followed him to the fireplace. "Let me guess, work is now code for the pub."

"No. Work is code for work," Arthur said before tossing floo powder into the fire and saying, "Ministry of Magic."

ooOoo

Arthur breathed deeply, calming himself, as he waited in line for the lifts when Percy came to stand by him.

"Hello, Fa - Dad," he corrected hastily.

"Percy," Arthur reciprocated the greeting with a forced smile.

"I didn't think you were working today. Yesterday you said you were off."

"Things change," Arthur said.

The doors of the lift rattled open, allowing the next people in line to enter. Father and son took a few steps forward, but were still a ways back in the que.

"I'm glad I ran into you today, Dad. I have something I've been wanting to ask you."

Arthur tensed as these words reached his ears. He knew it had to be about his behavior the day before.

"Yesterday - Err - Well -" Percy stopped to think of the best way to word his question. He decided to make it a statement instead. "You were acting strangely yesterday."

Arthur knew what his son meant, but attempted to play it off. "I don't know what you are talking about. Everything was perfectly fine yesterday."

"You were holed up in your bedroom until dinner, and your attitude was completely different when you came down," Percy hissed so no one near them could hear. "I've never seen you like that. And - and -" He deflated. "Why won't you even acknowledge that something is wrong?"

"Because there isn't," Arthur snapped. To his relief there was room for only one more person in the lift. Before he stepped in he told Percy, "I don't have time to discuss this. We both have to get back to work."

ooOoo

Diagon Alley was bustling with witches and wizards as usual. It was amazing how quickly the shops had reopened after the war. It was a nice escape for Molly. There was at least one place that had returned to normal with the exception of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, which she was standing in front of. She had decided to check on her son after Arthur rushed off to work.

"Sorry. We're closed," Ginny called from somewhere in the store as the bell tinkled above the door.

"Even for your Mum," Molly called back. After a few seconds, Ginny and Harry emerged from one of the aisles and George came bounding down the steps.

"Hey, Mum. What are you doing here?" George asked with a huge smile plastered across his face. The day had been difficult as everything he looked at reminded him of his dead twin, so seeing his mother was a delightful distraction.

Molly embraced each child while she answered. "Your dad had to go into work, and I have a couple errands to run, so I thought I'd pop in and see how things are coming. Where's your brother and Hermione?" She asked as she was two children short of hugging.

"They've gone to get take out," Harry answered.

"Ahh. Well, have you all gotten much done?"

George took this question. "Yeah, yeah. I think we should have things ready by tonight. A couple odd and end things really. I'll give you a walkthrough if you like," he offered.

Ginny and Harry returned to what they were working on while George gave his Mum the grand tour once again. It was odd and a bit unsettling without Fred, but George knew he was there in spirit. As they walked the aisles, George and Molly carried on light conversation. It was comforting seeing her son excited and acting like his old self.

When they came to the end of the tour Molly asked if he was alright, wanting to make sure his behavior was authentic.

George took a deep breath before answering. "I will be. I know Fred wouldn't want me to close this place down just because he isn't here. I mean, we've worked so hard to get this store…I - uh - I think I'm going to open back up next weekend."

Molly put a hand on each of George's arms and gave him a reassuring smile. "I think that would be wonderful, Georgie. And if you need anything, I'd be more than happy to help."

"Thanks, Mum, but I think I'll be fine. Those four," George gestured to the group downstairs, "said they'd help until Ginny and Hermione go back to school and Harry and Ron start Auror training. That will give me plenty of time to hire people."

Molly stayed at the shop while the kids ate, then let them get back to work.

Over the past several days she had thought of ways to help her husband, and after this morning, she knew she had to take action. So, Molly Weasley walked purposefully into J. Pippin's Potions.

"Good afternoon," greeted the clerk.

"Hello," Molly replied, approaching the counter. "I was wondering if you had something to help me." She gave the store clerk a quick synopsis of what had happened over the past month and a half, from Arthur's temper and drinking to his behavior and refusing to tell her what was bothering him. "So, do you have anything that could help with any of that?" Molly was desperate. She would do anything to help the man she loved.

The clerk thought long and hard before telling the short redheaded woman that there was no potion that could help.

"What about the Draught of Peace? Wouldn't that help with his temper?"

"No, ma'am. That only helps with anxiety."

"There's absolutely nothing?" Molly asked sadly.

"I'm sorry," the woman behind the counter answered regretfully. She could tell how much Molly was hurting. "I do wish you the best though."

When she turned to leave the store, Molly was startled to see a gentleman standing behind her. Not knowing how long he had been there, she apologized for making him wait so long. He told her that it was no problem and asked her to wait outside for him while he paid for his things.

Molly took a seat on the bench in front of the apothecary pondering why this stranger wanted to speak with her. She did not have much time to think though, as the stranger came to sit next to her.

"Hello. My name is Conner." The gentleman stuck his hand out and Molly shook it. Inside the store, Molly had been too distracted to notice what the man looked like. He was taller than average and his shirt stretched over his muscles. He wore his vibrant red hair in an Undercut style.

"I'm Molly."

"I heard you talking to the clerk. And I thought maybe I could help," Conner said in a thick Irish accent.

Molly was uncertain of how Conner could help. She stared into his green eyes, waiting for him to elaborate.

"You see, what you and your husband are going through sounds very similar to what my ex-wife and I went through. Our son was an auror. He was killed a few years ago. I reacted almost the exact same way your husband is, minus the temper...So I thought maybe if I talk to him, he would stop and get things back on track. And what happened with my marriage won't happen with yours."

Molly stared at her lap as she contemplated Conner's offer. She doubted Arthur would listen to him, but it was worth a shot.

"Ok," she agreed, looking back at the Irishman. They planned for him to come to the Burrow for dinner that night, and Molly thanked him.

ooOoo

There was a knock on Arthur's office door. It was nearly time for him to get off work (though he doubted he would go home yet), so he couldn't imagine who was coming to see him this late. Either way, he called for the mystery person to come in.

"Hey, Dad," Percy said as he took a seat across from his father.

"I'm not gonna talk about it," Arthur stared abruptly.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go to the tea shop before heading home -"

"Why?" the older man interrupted.

"I want to talk to you about Audrey," Percy answered honestly.

Arthur continued his paperwork, not acknowledging the bespeckled young man. He didn't want to harm his relationship with his son again, but he had a feeling Percy wasn't being truthful. If his son wasn't being completely honest, Arthur knew how he would handle it; with his attitude and then go to a pub to calm down before returning home.

Finishing the paperwork he was working on, Arthur stood up and said, "Alright, let's go."

Within ten minutes, they were seated in a nearby tea shop with their hot beverages.

"So. You wanted to talk about Audrey," Arthur prompted.

"Yes. I would like your advice about something," Percy said, staring at his tea cup.

Arthur saw now that Percy really was seeking his advice and not just trying to confront him again.

"What is it, Son?" he asked, concerned.

"Um..." Percy glanced up at his Father then returned his gaze to the cup. "H-how did you know you wanted to marry Mum?" He looked back at his Dad, waiting for an answer.

"You think Audrey is the one?" Arthur asked.

Percy nodded.

"Well," Arthur began, "we had discussed the idea of marriage and what we wanted out of life. But mainly, I - well, I just _knew_. There's not really a specific way of knowing. It's different with each person."

Percy nodded again. Neither man said anything for several minutes; Percy thinking about what his father just said, and Arthur remembering the night he proposed to Molly.

"I am going to ask her to marry me," Percy stated firmly. "She is the one."

Arthur patted his son's shoulder and gave him a genuine smile. "I'm happy for you, Perce."

They both bought another cup of tea and sat back down.

Since he had gotten the advice he needed and his dad seemed to be in a better mood, Percy decided to question him again.

"Dad, what happened yesterday?" he asked timidly.

Arthur took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Nothing happened."

"Dad, it's clear that something is wrong."

" _Nothing_ happened. And _nothing_ is wrong." Arthur's temper was coming back. "Besides, you've been gone for three years, so you don't know what normal is anymore."

This hit Percy hard. He knew he had been gone, and that he had made a huge mistake in doing so. His father and everyone else in the family had forgiven him, or at least that's what he thought.

"Fine. If you still feel that way, I'll go and things can go back to how they were." Percy made to leave. Arthur's voice stopped him.

"Son, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant."

Percy turned to face his dad, who was now standing also.

Thoughts buzzed through Arthur's mind. He didn't want to admit something was wrong. Hell, he didn't even know what _was_ wrong. But he wasn't going to lose his son after just getting him back.

"Don't say things like that then. I know something is going on, Dad. I saw you yesterday and the complete turn in your behavior. And 'I fucking swear, Molly'?" Percy quoted incredulously. "Seriously, Dad, whatever the problem is, you need to fix it. Otherwise, I can tell, I won't be the only person you've lost."

With how his son put this, it didn't take long for Arthur to concede. "Ok. I'll talk to her tonight. As soon as I get home."

"Good. I'll stop by your office tomorrow and see how things went."

Father and son said their good-byes, and went to their respectable homes.

ooOoo

"Molly...I am so very sorry. I know, I know. It doesn't mean much anymore, but this time I mean it - I mean, I meant it before, but this time I truly mean it. And you have had every right to speculate and not trust me.

"Now, this part is going to be difficult for me, so let me finish before you say anything...You were right. There is something wrong. I don't know what it is though. Well, part of it is because of Fred, but that's a fraction of it. I feel - I feel...I don't know. I guess, I feel alone, even though you're always there. And I can't always control my temper. Again, I don't know why...I'm the husband and father, but I - I can't handle everything that has been put on me lately. And that is the most selfish thing I can say."

Arthur had been pacing the garden for ten minutes before finding the right words to say. Now, as he stood at the back door, he had to muster the courage to actually say these things to his wife and become vulnerable.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur opened the door and stepped over the threshold.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to come in," Molly said as she set a pot to magically stir itself.

Arthur slowly approached his wife. "Love, where are the kids?"

"Charlie is eating out with Hagrid and the others are going to be at the shop late," she responded.

"Bill and Fleur are back at Shell Cottage?"

"Yes, Dear. You were here when they left this morning."

"Good," Arthur said, nodding to himself. "Will you stop for a minute, Molly? We - Uh - We need to talk."

This immediately got Molly's attention. It could mean one of two things: that he was ready to open up or that he wanted to take a break from their relationship. And with how things had been going, the latter seemed the most likely. She was quickly relieved when Arthur continued after they both took a seat at the table.

"Well, it's more like I have some explaining to do." Arthur took his wife's hand and looked her in the eyes. As he did this, Molly completely forgot that Conner could come back from the loo at any second. "Molly...I am so very sorry for the past several weeks. I know it loses meaning after a while, but this time I truly mean it. I've been an awful husband, and you have had every right to speculate -"

Just then the kitchen door swung open. The tall, muscular stranger froze as he realized he walked in on an intimate moment. Arthur glared at him, his blood boiling. He looked back at Molly.

"Who is this?" Arthur asked angrily.

"Dear, it's not what you're thinking," Molly stated calmly.

"Who. Is. He?" Arthur ground out. Before Molly could answer, he stood and slammed the back door on his way out. Sighing, she chased after her husband and stopped in front of him. The other day she had learned not to grab him if he was angry.

"You know what, I take back everything I said. I can't believe you would do something like this!" Arthur's face was as red as his hair now.

Molly raised her voice over her husband's. "Arthur, it is not like that! I met him -"

"- I don't want to know how or when you met him, Molly! This is absolutely -"

"- He went through something similar! I was hoping if he talked to you -" Molly interrupted again, but was quickly cut back off.

" _Stop_! I don't want to hear it. I'm sure the two of you planned for whenever I found out. And all of this is just a way of tricking me!" Arthur took a deep breath and continued more calmly. "Get out of my way."

Molly didn't budge. Instead she glared at her husband, daring him to leave.

"Dann it, woman, move!" he barked.

"Not until you calm down and let me explain," Molly said evenly.

Knowing how stubborn his wife could be, Arthur pushed her to the side so he could get to the apparition point, not giving her a second glance as she fell to the ground. He didn't mean to shove her that severely, but at this point he didn't care.


	12. Separation

The three youngest Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione finished at the joke shop and headed to the Leaky Cauldron in order to use the Floo Network.

"For fuck's sake," Ron grumbled as the group entered the pub.

"What?" his companions asked.

"Dad's passed out at the bar," Ron pointed out. Sure enough, Arthur was unconscious at the end of the wooden counter.

"Should we take him home?" Ginny asked.

George glanced at his watch: eight-thirty. "I s'pose so. Ron, will you give me a hand?" he asked.

"Absolutely not. I say we leave him and if we're lucky, he won't find his way back."

"Ronald! Show him some respect. He is your father after all," Hermione chided.

"Not that piece of shit. I'll see you guys at home." Ron stepped into the fireplace and disappeared.

"I'd better go talk to him," Hermione said before following her boyfriend.

George looked to Harry then, about to ask the same question, but Harry nodded before the words left George's lips.

The trio made their way to the bar. After asking the bartender how much his dad owed, George paid off his tab. The two boys placed either of Arthur's arms around their shoulders and carried him to the fireplace.

As soon as they stumbled out of the fireplace in the kitchen of the Burrow, Arthur had regained consciousness in just enough time to find a trashcan. No doubt, the spinning sensation of Floo travel caused him to be more nauseated than he already was.

It seemed as though Ron had immediately began insulting his dad when he stepped into the kitchen a few minutes before, because Hermione was having it out with him, and Charlie was comforting his mum. While Arthur was busy retching, Ginny joined Hermione in berating her brother, George sat by his mum and Charlie, and Harry stood awkwardly by the fireplace.

Harry was startled as the fireplace roared to life next to him, and Bill stepped out of the green flames. He and Fleur had forgotten a box that morning and he had come to pick it up, so he was not expecting the mixture of shouting, sobbing, and vomiting that met his ears.

" _Hey_!" Bill shouted, gaining everyone's attention except Arthur's who was still bent over the trashcan. "I'm not even gone for one day and all hell breaks loose?" He let out a deep breath as he ran a hand through his long hair. "Does anyone want to explain?

This was the wrong question to ask, because the house exploded with noise again

"Shut it!" Bill commanded, causing the house to grow silent again. He knew how to control his siblings; he had watched his mother his entire life after all.

Finally, Arthur was able to stand without a wave of nausea overcoming him. He braced himself on the counter.

""You want an explanation?" he slurred. "She's a lying, cheating bitch!"

"And you're a good-for-nothing drunk!" Ron countered.

"Ron, go to your room if you can't hold your tongue," Bill commanded.

"Fine. I don't want to be in the same room as him anyway," the youngest Weasley male griped as he stamped out of the kitchen and up to his room.

"I come home to my wife alone with another man," Arthur continued. He then turned to his wife. "Speaking of which, did you enjoy the rest of your evening? I know I certainly did," he sneered before returning his head promptly to the trashcan.

When Arthur stood back up, Molly replied. "I told you that's not how it was, and I tried telling you why he was here, but you were adamant that it was exactly how it looked and didn't give me a chance to explain."

"Of course, I'm supposed to listen to and believe the story the two of you made up in order to cover your arse. I'm sorry I'm not a gullible idiot like you think I am," Arthur interrupted.

"Mum is telling the truth," Charlie cut in. "I met Conner when I got home. He was consoling Mum because _you_ shoved her to the ground." Charlie crossed the room and put his face an inch from his father's. "The only reason he was here was to help you get your shit together. He wanted to make sure you didn't make the same mistakes he did that caused his marriage to end. Because he knows what you're going through; he went through the exact same thing four years ago. But, no, you were being too much of a knob to realize that." He went to sit back down before rounding on his dad again. "You know what? If this doesn't work out, I hope Mum does end up with Conner, because, from the ten minutes I talked to him, I know he would make a much better husband than you." Satisfied, Charlie returned to his Mum.

Arthur felt thoroughly admonished and humiliated. He had been too quick to judge, and now he would have to pay the price.

"Kids, will you give us a minute?" he asked quietly.

No one moved. None of them trusted him to be alone with their mum, especially after the past several days and with how intoxicated he currently was.

"Kids, it's fine," Molly assured.

Still, no one budged.

"Would you feel better if Bill stayed in here?" she asked.

At this suggestion, everyone mumbled their agreement and departed.

Arthur carefully made his way to a seat at the table. It was amazing he was able to cross the room with stumbling or tripping.

After a moment, he spoke quietly. "This was my last chance, wasn't it?"

Molly nodded.

"And I've mucked it up?"

She didn't answer this, but replied with a question. "Why are you acting like this?"

Arthur thought for a moment before answering honestly. "I don't...know."

"Fine, Arthur, don't tell me. Continue messing things up then there will be nothing left to ruin." Molly stood and began making her way to the kitchen door.

"Molly." Arthur attempted to stand but quickly realized that he couldn't. "Molly, I'm telling you through truth. That's what I was going to say earlier…Trust me," he pleaded.

She turned to face her husband. "Well, I don't trust you, and I no longer believe a word that comes out of your mouth. You never mean anything you say." Without another word, Molly went upstairs for a much needed bath.

As she sat in the warm bubble-filled water, she could only think about what she should do. She had thought that everything that had occurred after the whole fight in the shed would straighten him out, but he was worse now than he was then. He was uncontrollable and unpredictable. What could she do that would put him back on the right path? She wasn't ready to give up on him yet. After a long while, she thought of something that might work…

Make him realize what he would lose.

It had worked last time. He was torn apart and only wanted her forgiveness when the family had kicked him out. Sure, it didn't last long, but there was no definite answer that it wouldn't stick now. Unlike a week ago, Molly did not want it to go as far as one of them leaving though.

While she was blow drying her hair with her wand, Arthur came to stand in the doorway. It had been nearly an hour; she supposed he had to sober up a bit before coming upstairs. He could barely stand while leaning on the counter when he got home after all. It was obvious he had drank more tonight than he ever had.

"I - Um - I need to shower," he said quietly.

Molly ignored him, partly because she couldn't handle any more of his lies and partly because of the plan she just devised.

Not hearing "No", Arthur entered the bathroom and began getting ready for bed. When he entered the bedroom, Molly was sitting in bed reading a book. Wanting to avoid more confrontation, he stood near the edge of the bed and waited for her to look up before speaking.

"So, am I sleeping in here tonight, or am I on the couch?" he asked timidly.

"I don't care. Do whatever you want," Molly answered indifferently.

Not wanting to raise suspicion by sleeping downstairs, he climbed in the bed. After they turned the lights off, he went to hug her up like he always did, but she moved his arm. She didn't want him to touch her and she had a cut and a large, sensitive bruise on her arm from when she fell earlier that evening.

ooOoo

"Dear, do we have any hangover potion?" Arthur asked the next morning as he entered the kitchen, rubbing his forehead.

"No."

"Well, what's for breakfast?" he asked, coming up behind his wife at the stove.

"Whatever you fix," was Molly's blunt reply, ignoring Arthur's close proximity. This was all part of her plan: act like she doesn't care and do as little as possible for him.

"You always make my breakfast, and, I swear, we still had some hangover potion the other day." He was having a difficult time keeping his temper in check now. Every day for the last thirty years, Molly would wake him up, fix his breakfast, and pack his lunch. Today, she did none of those things. "What's the matter with you?" he asked angrily. "I'm going to be late for work."

"Well, if you hadn't overreacted and stormed off last night, you would have breakfast and you wouldn't need a hangover potion," Molly said as she plated the last pancake. "Now, why don't you just get to work?"

"You don't tell me what to do. I tell you what to do," he said as he snatched up a pancake to take with him. "You're just a meek little housewife. And from now on, I expect to have breakfast ready every morning," he growled. "If you'll excuse me, I must get to work."

ooOoo

Percy walked into his dad's office without knocking and took a seat across from him. "I heard about last night. Are you okay?"

"Merlin, Son, do you have to talk so loudly?" Arthur grumbled, his head still pounding. "Other than screwing everything up and having the worst bleeding hangover of my life, I'm fantastic," he answered sorely.

"That's not true, Dad. I'm sure you didn't mess things up too badly," Percy assured.

Arthur leaned back in his chair. "According to your mother, I have."

"She said that?"

"Pretty much."

"If the words 'You messed things up' didn't come out of here mouth, then she didn't say that."

"But she did say she doesn't trust me and doesn't care anymore, so it's technically the same thing."

Percy didn't believe what his father was telling him. He knew his mother would never give up that easily, what he didn't know was how hard she had already tried.

"Well, do you want to get lunch together?" Percy asked, changing the subject.

"No. I'm skipping it today."

"I'll see you tonight then. I'm coming over for dinner," he said before closing the office door behind him.

"Good luck with the shrew," Arthur muttered as he returned to his work.

ooOoo

That evening, Percy didn't see his dad at supper. None of his family did. In fact, the only person that saw him that night was Molly. She had sat up waiting for him until, finally, he came home around two in the morning...

Drunk.

"Where have you been?" she asked, highly annoyed. You would think he had learned his lesson.

"Where do you think?" He fumbled with his shoes as he took them off. "You know, I was thinking. What's the point? You've given up on me, therefore there is none."

"I've stayed up all night worrying about you."

"That's odd," he blurted. "Why would you be up all night if you didn't give a rat's ass about him?"

"I never said I stopped caring," Molly defended herself.

"You sure acted like you didn't last night and this morning."

Molly couldn't deny that. It was her intention to make him think she didn't care. Where she was hoping it would knock some since into her husband, it was now causing a fight. She attempted to change the subject and turn the blame back on Arthur.

"With the war over, I thought the late nights worrying were over -"

"Well, I didn't ask you to wait up. Personally, I'd rather you be asleep when I get home so I don't have to put up with your NAG-GING." Arthur made to pass Molly and go up the stairs to the bedroom, but she put her arm out to stop him.

"No. You'll be on the couch from now until further notice." She glared daggers at him as she said this.

Arthur grabbed her wrist tightly and forcefully moved her arm. "What did I tell you this morning? You don't tell me what to do. I'm the husband. You're just the lowly housewife." he growled before heading upstairs.

Molly rubbed the wrist in which her husband was just holding, tears forming in her eyes from fear and pain. She wasn't sure what to do. She didn't want to sleep in the same bed as him, but she felt if she didn't then he would become even angrier.

 _There's always Charlie,_ Molly thought. She had promised to tell him if his father ever did anything, but she didn't want to wake him. Every day he worked so hard to rebuild Hogwarts and he needed his rest. So, she reluctantly followed her husband to their bedroom.

ooOoo

Over the next couple days the only thing that changed was Molly becoming more submissive. In the mornings, she made sure to have Arthur's breakfast ready and at night she pretended to be asleep when he got home. When the kids were around, they both acted as if everything was perfectly fine.

One evening, their cover was blown. Charlie was helping Molly set the table for dinner when her sleeve slid back a little to reveal her bruised wrist.

"Mum." Charlie stopped what he was doing.

"What is it, dear?" Molly asked, not realizing what her son had seen.

Charlie gently took his mum's hand and pulled back her sleeve completely. Immediately, he knew what caused the bruise due to the patterning of the bruising.

"Mum." He looked at her seriously. "You promised you would tell me if he hurt you again."

"I know. I just - I don't know. You've been so busy; I didn't want to be a bother."

"That doesn't matter. This is absolutely unacceptable! What else has he done?"

Molly told her protective son exactly what had happened since the night Conner was at the Burrow, tears silently streaming down her face.

This infuriated Charlie. He blamed himself partially. If he had paid closer attention, perhaps he could have caught on sooner.

"I know you don't want to hear this, but you have to leave him. Tonight. Because this isn't healthy, and I don't want to see you hurt again."

ooOoo

That night, Charlie stayed up with his mum, waiting for Arthur to get home. He would be there for moral support and physical defense. In Bill's absence, he would have to step up.

They watched the old grandfather clock as it chimed and Arthur's hand settled on "Home". A moment later, he came stumbling through the door.

Upon seeing his second oldest standing behind Molly, Arthur froze.

"Don't you have to be up early, Charlie?" he quickly recovered, doing his best not to slur his words.

"I know everything," Charlie deadpanned. "But I'm gonna let Mum do the talking."

Before Molly could speak, Arthur began slinging insults. "Very mature. The going gets tough and you run off to your son for help. Pathetic."

Even though he hated the way his dad was talking to his mum, Charlie knew he had to bite his tongue and let his mum do this on her own.

"I'm not running to anyone. Charlie is here to make sure you don't harm me when I tell you I'm leaving," Molly said confidently.

Arthur laughed humorlessly. "You're not going anywhere. We took vows on our wedding day -"

Molly interrupted, "- Vows which _you_ already broke."

"Either way, you are my wife…You are _not_ leaving," he challenged.

"Watch me." Molly tried passing her husband to get to the door, but he grabbed her upper arm. Charlie was quick on his feet; in the blink of an eye he had his wand drawn and pointed at his father who just as quickly released his grip and took a step back.

"So you're going to abandon your kids?" Arthur accused.

"No. In the morning, Charlie will tell them what happened, and the boys can come with me or stay here with you. They can decide."

"What about Ginny?"

"She'll be coming with me."

"What if she wants to stay? She is old enough to make her own decisions."

"She doesn't have a choice. She turns seventeen in August. If you haven't sorted yourself out by then, I can't stop her though I'd prefer her to stay as far away from you as possible."

"You can't keep my daughter from me. You've already taken one of them...Or do you not remember Gracie?"

At this, Charlie was lost and Molly was appalled that Arthur would even think that she'd forgotten her first little girl.

"You told me countless times it wasn't my fault," Molly said, barely audible.

"What was it you said, Molly, 'You never mean anything you say'? Apparently, I didn't mean things I said back then either." Arthur had never been this ruthless.

The dam broke. Tears began cascading down Molly's cheeks. Was Arthur telling the truth? All these years, did he secretly think it was her fault the pregnancy failed?

"Why are you bringing this up now? We agreed never to talk about her," Molly choked out.

"See! The other night you wanted to discuss whatever George and I were talking about, but you wouldn't believe me when I said you didn't want to talk about it...The first time I get to talk about my first daughter in twenty-two years and you ruin it! Just like you destroyed whatever chance she had at life or having her memory preserved. You're too selfish and weak to even be reminded of her that you decided no one could ever talk about her.

"No matter what I said back then, It was entirely your fault. The complications and premature birth," it was now that Charlie realized he was supposed to have another sister, "were caused by your high blood pressure and the excessive amounts of stress you put on yourself. The war had barely begun and all you could do was worry. I'm surprised we didn't lose any other kids because of that." Arthur's face was bright red now.

"It's also your fault that I've had to keep all this bottled up for twenty three years, like she's some sort of ugly secret. Did you even consider how this would affect me or were you only thinking about yourself?

"And guess what? Now we've lost a child we raised for twenty one years and more than six people know of his existence. How do you suppose we ignore that?" Finally, Arthur stopped his tirade, giving Molly a chance to process everything he just said.

"I-I didn't realize how hard this has been on you, but it's not like I don't think about her every now and then either."

"I think about her nearly every goddamn day!" he shouted. He couldn't help thinking that the mother should think about her lost child more than the father.

Charlie recovered. There was no time to think about his lost sister or to be shocked that he was supposed to have another sibling. He had to keep his mother on track.

"Mum, don't let him distract you," Charlie whispered from behind Molly. "He's just trying to make you feel guilty so you won't leave." He wasn't sure how true that was, but Molly desperately needed to get out of this situation. Charlie had never seen his father this mad, and he was afraid Arthur could overpower him if he truly wanted to.

Focused once again, Molly wiped her face with her sleeves, and stood up straight.

"Goodbye, Arthur," she said definitively.

Charlie walked between Arthur and Molly in case his father tried anything else. To everyone's surprise, he didn't. Arthur allowed them to leave without any further altercation. Instead, he stormed off to the kitchen.


	13. Taking Responsibility

The next morning, Arthur woke up on the couch with a horrible headache. The smell of breakfast and the sound of yelling filled the house.

The previous night was quite fuzzy, as it usual. He remembered coming home late, getting in another argument with Molly, and drinking until he fell asleep on the couch. For some odd reason, he thought Charlie was there also. That didn't explain why their kids were arguing, or why Molly was not stopping it.

Arthur rubbed his face and sighed. Apparently, he would have to deal with the kids this morning.

He gathered the sleeping draught and firewhiskey from the previous night, and took a gulp of the latter before entering the kitchen.

Upon entering, he discovered which of his kids were fighting: his two youngest and his second oldest. George sat quietly, staying out of it. Harry was trying to calm Ginny down while Hermione scolded Ron as he spat out insults about their father to Ginny. Charlie was red in the face as he was in a shouting match with his sister. Arthur assumed Bill and Fleur were at Shell Cottage…Molly was nowhere to be seen.

George was the only one who noticed Arthur as he watched from the doorway.

"I'm staying here!" Ginny fiercely told her second oldest brother.

"I've told you, _you are going with Mum_. She said you have no say in this until you're of age, and even then, she doesn't want you near him," Charlie explained supposedly for the umpteenth time.

"And who's supposed to take care of him if we all leave? He's passed out on the couch this morning for Merlin's sake," she shot back.

"I'm staying actually," George chimed in, making eye contact with his father. Charlie didn't notice his brother's comment as he was too preoccupied with Ginny; otherwise he would have jumped on George as well. Not only did he want Ginny safe, but he didn't want any of his other siblings in contact with their father either.

"George and I are the only ones who don't want to just abandon him when he, _obviously_ , needs his family most right now."

The topic of last night's argument came back to Arthur…Molly had left him. When she had told him she was taking Ginny, he brought up their deceased daughter and began blaming her for the failed pregnancy, even though he didn't believe a word that came out of his mouth…And he had physically hurt her again; that was where Charlie came in. As these thoughts flooded back to Arthur, he felt utterly repulsed by what he had done and how he had been treating his wife the past few days. But wait. Hadn't she been the one to start all of this? Molly had been ignoring and mistreating him first. He was pulled back to the scene in front of him as his daughter mentioned his name again.

"Doesn't Dad get a say in this?"

"No, he doesn't. It's not safe for you to stay here right now. He's chang-" Ron answered instead of Charlie this time, but was cut off.

"I know. 'He's changed! He's not the man who raised us'!" Ginny echoed her brothers' words from a few weeks ago. "That doesn't mean we just leave him."

"Ginny, if you want, I'll stay here. And I'll come see you every day," Harry offered.

"What the bloody hell, mate?" Ron shot at his best friend, appalled that he would even suggest such a thing.

"Sorry. You're my best friend, but she's my girlfriend," the raven-haired boy defended himself.

"Listen!" Charlie interrupted. "Anyone can do what they want. But, Ginny, you have to go to Muriel's with Mum."

"Yeah? Try and ma -" Ginny began.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" Arthur roared over the din at the table. All heads snapped to the Weasley patriarch who slammed the two bottles on the table, almost shattering them from the force. This burst of rage frightened _everyone._ "This is the _last_ thing I want to deal with this morning," he seethed.

Regaining his courage first, Ron stood and began accusing his father. "You're already drinking this morning?"

Arthur was taken aback by how fast his youngest son recovered. "It – It's from last night," he stuttered.

"So you have then," Ron stated.

Glaring at his son, Arthur replied, "I did not say that. You're putting words in my mouth."

"You didn't deny it either." Now, Charlie had gotten his courage back. He should have been the first to stand up to their father, seeing as he's the oldest present and a dragon trainer, but he had seen the damage his dad could do. "See, Ginny, this is why you can't stay here."

"He's not dangerous. He's our _Dad_ ," she argued.

"He hurt Mum. You want him to hurt you too?" Ron stated.

"That wasn't on purpose." Ginny pointed out, thinking she was helping her case.

"Exactly!" Ron exclaimed.

"QUIET!" Arthur barked. "Shut up and sit down, all of you!" They all obeyed immediately.

He rubbed his face as he briefly paced the room, trying to get his temper in check. His kids didn't need to see that side of him. He didn't even know about that side of him until the war ended. All his life, he had been mild-mannered and even-tempered. Stopping at the head of the table, he firmly placed his hands on the back of an empty chair and bowed his head, now thinking of what he needed to do.

When Molly told him she was taking their daughter, he was upset. This morning his sons, and even Ginny, had made some valid points against her staying with him. And, as much as he didn't want her taken from him, he really didn't want to hurt his little girl.

Arthur blew out a long breath and grabbed the two bottles previously slammed on the table. Everyone was surprised when he put them both in the cabinet. He, then, pulled out a hangover potion and drank some before returning to stand at the head of the table.

Looking around the table, Arthur could see how apprehensive his kids were. This should never have happened. Kids should never have to look at their father this way, especially his. Molly shouldn't have felt unsafe with him, and Charlie, along with any of his other kids, should not have had to protect their mother from their father, or witness what their son had last night. There was no redeeming himself – No way of fixing this…

It was over.

Slowly shaking his head, Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head before looking back up. Everything was ruined because of him, so he now would have to man up and do his best to keep things from getting worse.

"I'm not going to make any excuses - Please, don't interrupt me -" Arthur calmly added when Ron was, no doubt, about to make a snide remark, "nor am I going to seek anyone's forgiveness. I don't deserve it. I will never be able to forgive myself for what I've done to this family, so I don't expect any of you to either…This family has been through hell, and it is _entirely_ my fault. Everything that has happened since the end of the war is because of me."

No one was expecting this. They thought Arthur would blow up and blame everything else, but he did the exact opposite.

Now, Arthur addressed his daughter directly. "Ginny, I have no idea why you are defending me. Thank you, but you need to listen to your brothers. What they are saying is true. And you have even made some good arguments against your own case without realizing it.

He turned his gaze to Charlie. "Charlie…Son, you and Bill have had to step up and take on a parental role because I have failed in my patriarchal duties recently. Neither of you should have had to do that."

"No, we shouldn't have. And _never_ call me that again." Charlie couldn't hold is tongue any longer. He had done better than he expected. Normally, Charlie would have interrupted him around the time Ron almost had, but Arthur calling him 'Son' sent him over the edge. As far as he was concerned, the man standing in front of him had no right to call him 'Son' anymore.

"Same here," Ron piped up.

That six word sentence hurt Arthur deeply, even though, on some level, he knew those words would be spoken by at least one of his kids sooner or later. "Okay," he said quietly, remembering why he needed to keep calm. "Just know that I am proud of each of you for doing what you know is right, standing by your mother, and all the other accomplishments you've made in your lives. And I love you all - including Bill, Percy, and your mother - more than any of you could ever imagine, even though it hasn't seemed that way recently…I am _extremely_ sorry for everything that I have caused," Arthur said sincerely as he addressed the table as a whole again.

"Look, no one is going to Muriel's." Ginny's mood immediately lifted. Ron and Charlie looked ready to protest. George seemed to be indifferent. "Let me finish," Arthur hastily added, preventing another shouting match. "It's not fair for everyone to have to leave because of me. So, Charlie, I want you to go tell your mother she can move back in. I will be out of here in thirty minutes. No one will have to worry about me coming around, and I'll make sure there is enough money in our vault for whatever she needs whenever she needs it." Clearing his throat, Arthur added quietly, "And – uh - Charlie, please tell her that I didn't mean anything I said last night, and that it was _very_ wrong for me to say those things."

Charlie was unsure if he would convey that message to his mum. His father didn't deserve to have any communication with her, but as he thought about it more, he realized if he didn't tell his mum what Arthur had just said, she would continue to think what her husband had told her was true and that would be worse than allowing his father to have what he didn't deserve.

"I will," Charlie answered truthfully. Arthur had no doubts that his son would pass on his message.

Everyone else in the room was completely lost. Charlie had not elaborated on what occurred the previous night, but it was serious enough for their mother to leave. Not quite catching on to how serious this short exchange between her brother and dad was, Ginny hopped up.

"I'm going with you," she blurted.

"Ginny, we have been through this. _No,_ " Charlie said exasperatedly.

"Dad?" she asked hopefully.

Of course, Arthur had already decided he wasn't going to fight for Ginny and every fiber of his being was telling him to shut everyone out, but he couldn't help but hesitate with his answer. His daughter meant the world to him, and her eagerness to go with him showed how much he meant to her. He looked Ginny over and landed on her eyes. They were so much like her mother's - big, brown, caring, pleading, but also holding a spark of fire. He had already hurt the woman he loved. He would never be able to forgive himself if he harmed his little girl. Now, he understood where Molly was coming from.

"Your brothers and mother are right," he answered, regretful yet stern. "You're staying here with your mum."

"What about when I turn seventeen?"

"No."

"Someone needs to take care of you -"

"- I am a grown man. I can take care of myself," Arthur cut off his daughter, a bit harshly.

"Yes, you have done such a great job with that lately," Ginny said sarcastically.

Arthur slammed his fist down on the table. Ginny quickly took a step back. Charlie and Harry instinctively moved in front of her. Ron, who was on the opposite side of the table, drew his wand while George was prepared to stop his little brother if he tried to do anything.

"No, and that is final! I'm not arguing with you on this," Arthur exploded, having lost any control he had left on his temper.

"This is why Mum doesn't want you near him, Ginny," Ron said.

Arthur saw how familiar this looked, except this time it was Ginny. And that scared him more than anything.

"I'm - I'm sorry. Ron's right. I don't want to risk hurting you," he said, backing away.

"I can go though, right?" George spoke up. "You need someone just...to be there."

"No, George," he sighed. " _No_ _one_ is going with me. What I need is to work things out on my own."

With that, Arthur rushed out of the kitchen to pack his bag and grab a quick shower. He wasn't sure where he would go, but he had all day to figure that out. Right now he was already an hour late for work. He avoided his kids on the way out and didn't look back before disapparating.


	14. The Aftermath

Once Arthur left the kitchen, everyone turned their attention to Ginny, concerned about how this might have affected her, but she showed no emotion.

"Gin?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"How could she do this to him?" Ginny asked quietly. "How could _you_ say something so awful?" Her voice and anger rose as she turned to Charlie.

"Ginny, there's a lot more to it than you know. I didn't tell any of you the details." The dragon trainer kept his calm.

"Why don't you enlighten us then?"

"It's not my place. That's up to Mum and – and – _him_. But I saw what happened, so I have every right to say what I did," Charlie defended himself.

"Well, that doesn't give Ron an excuse! He knows just as much as the rest of us –"

"- Actually, I do have an excuse!" Ron interrupted his sister. "It was probably something similar to what happened out by the shed a few weeks ago."

Ginny turned on her youngest brother now. "You can't just assume that. Besides, you've been a complete ass towards Dad ever since he came back last time. Mum forgave him and so did the rest of us, so why couldn't you?"

"You all made a mistake by doing that, though, because now he has done something else. And this time she didn't kick him out. She _left_ him! That means this has to be worse than last time," Ron countered.

"You know what? Don't talk to me until you stop acting like a prat!" Ginny hollered before turning on her heel and making her way to the back door, stopping when she noticed Harry wasn't following her. She glared at her boyfriend until he took the hint and followed her into the orchard, listening to and agreeing with everything she said as she hit a bludger whenever it came in range.

Ron breathed heavily as he watched his sister and best friend leave the house before making his way to his bedroom with Hermione. She did the same as Harry, sat quietly and listened while her significant other went on a long rant.

With the four youngest ones gone, Charlie and George were the only people left in the kitchen. Charlie was only still there because he wanted to make sure his father was gone before going to retrieve his mum. His younger brother began to leave the kitchen before Charlie spoke again.

"George?" he said, silently wondering where his brother was going.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to talk to him," George said bitterly. "I'm going to my room."

To George's relief, Charlie didn't stop him. It had been extremely hard for him ever since his twin was killed, but he was slowly making progress as the rest of his family helped him. Now though, his family was falling apart. Something else that was helping George was the special bond he thought was forming between him and his father. He felt special that his dad would let his guard down around him and open up when he wouldn't do that with anyone else. Apparently, their late night talks weren't as special to his dad as they were to him. This was a major setback for George.

A little while later, Arthur came downstairs. Not a word was spoken between father and son as Arthur went to the garden gate to disapparate. Charlie watched his father leave before going to gather his mum.

**oOoOo**

Molly jumped up from the couch when her Aunt Muriel's fireplace roared to life and Charlie stepped out, eager to see how things went. She knew Ginny and figured it would be a fight to get her to leave the Burrow.

"Where's Ginny?" she asked worriedly when she realized no one else was coming through the floo.

"Everything is fine, Mum," her son reassured. "There were some…issues this morning, but then Dad came in and took care of things." Before Molly could speak, he hastened to add, "He didn't cause any trouble. In fact, he made this big speech about how everything was his fault and that we were right and Ginny needed to stay with you. He wouldn't even let George go with him."

"Well, where's your sister?" Molly asked fiercely, thinking Charlie had left her at the Burrow with Arthur.

Picking up on her concern, he said, "I made sure Dad was gone. He didn't think it was fair for everyone to have to leave because of him, so he said for you to move back in and that you wouldn't have to worry about him coming around. Also, he said to tell you that he didn't mean anything he said last night and that it was wrong for him to say those things."

Molly wasn't sure what to think of this last statement. No longer could she believe anything her husband said. How could she discern if this was said out of honesty or because he wanted to get back in her good graces? Arthur could have done everything that morning just to get her to forgive him without meaning a word.

Noticing his mother's facial expression change as she contemplated this Charlie said, "I have no doubt he was being sincere." Molly nodded, still not entirely certain. "Are you ready to go home?" he asked.

His mother nodded again, hating how he called it 'home'. The Burrow would never be home without Arthur there. But he hadn't been there in weeks, though, had he? Not the Arthur she always knew.

**oOoOo**

Once they arrived back at the Burrow, Molly ascended the stairs to her bedroom. A feeling of deja vu overcame her as soon as she opened the door. The scene was similar to that of two weeks ago, but this time the closet was completely empty, seeing as she had packed all of her clothes the night before also.

Closing the door behind her, she made her way to the bed and set her bag down. With a flick of her wand, everything in her bag was sent flying to its proper place. Another flick, and the drawers and closet door closed. Molly sighed exasperatedly when one of the closet doors didn't completely shut. She walked over to investigate.

She tried pushing it together, but it still wouldn't close. Opening the door, she looked up at one of the hinges and made her way down the others. There was nothing wrong. Then she looked at the floor to find one of Arthur's button-up shirts lying in a heap. _He must have dropped it this morning,_ Molly thought as she picked it up and began putting it on a hanger in his side of the closet. She wasn't going to throw it out. She couldn't. That shirt was the last thing she had of Arthur until he sorted himself out…Well, _if_ he ever got himself sorted out which, if he did, it would take a long time, and even longer for her to trust him again.

There wasn't time to pursue thoughts and questions that rushed through Molly's head as she had to make lunch for the inhabitants of the Burrow. She hadn't seen any of the kids since she had gotten back.

"Oh, there you two are. I was about to send someone to find you," Molly said as she glanced up from the sandwiches she was making to see Ginny and Harry entering through the back door.

Harry stopped in the kitchen to speak with Mrs. Weasley. Ginny, however, paid her mother no attention.

"How are you, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry inquired softly.

Mrs. Weasley gave a sad smile and replied, "I think I'll make it. How is Ginny?"

"Oh. Um. She's just a bit upset is all," Harry partially lied.

Ginny made it up the stairs to George's closed bedroom door. Not even bothering to knock, she walked straight in and sat next to him on his bed.

George was taken aback by his sister's abrupt entrance. "Ginny?"

"What?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Um. What are you doing?" George asked curiously.

"Checking on you."

"Ok…And?"

"You aren't going to start looking yourself in here again, are you?" Ginny asked, genuinely concerned.

George shrugged.

"You are not," his little sister stated matter-of-factly.

"Ginny -" George began to protest.

"No, George. There is no reason for you to regress. You've even said you're going to reopen the shop next weekend."

"I do to have a good reason."

"Mum leaving Dad again is not a good reason."

"I didn't say that was my reason."

"Ok. Fine. What is it then?" Ginny stared at her brother, waiting on an acceptable answer.

"…I just thought Dad would let me go with him."

"If you hadn't noticed, he didn't let anyone go with him."

"Yeah, but...he opened up to me a couple times when he wouldn't talk to anyone else."

"What about?"

"That's just it. He told me, in complete confidence, things that no one else knows. I just thought...Well I don't know...I thought maybe he trusted me more than everyone else or that there was a stronger bond between us or…I don't know. It's stupid."

"Dad is having a really tough time right now. Maybe if we give him some space he'll come around. But for the time being we should put out those flyers for the grand reopening."

"Okay," George conceded.

"Come on." Ginny led George downstairs and out the front door in order to avoid their mum.

**oOoOo**

Bill was sitting at his desk at Gringott's when he received an owl from Charlie. It requested that he take his lunch break as soon as possible and meet his brother at Shell Cottage.

"Charlie!" Bill called as he entered his house.

"In here!" Charlie called back from the kitchen.

"Is everything alright?" Bill asked worriedly.

"That depends on your definition of 'alright'." Charlie paused as he began pulling out the take away he brought. "Mum left him again. This time for good, I think."

"What happened? Bill asked quietly as he took a seat at the table.

"Yesterday I saw that her wrist was bruised again. When I asked her about it she told me everything. How he's been drinking again, more than he ever has. How he's been mistreating her, physically and emotionally." Charlie looked his older brother in the eye. "Bill, our Father is a brute." He wasn't going to beat around the bush.

"That's not our Father, Charlie."

"No, Bill, he is. He hasn't been imperio'd, or possessed, or anything else. Physically and biologically he is our Father."

Bill thought for a moment. "I can't argue there," Bill said. And he really couldn't argue that point. No matter what they said or what excuses they tried to make, Arthur was the same person. He was their dad. The man who raised them.

A few moments passed in silence as they both ate before Charlie spoke up again.

"You know what really gets me, Bill, is that it's my fault all this happened again."

"That's not true. Why would you even think that?"

"The day we all went into the village, I was the first up, and when I passed Dad on the couch he reeked of alcohol. I didn't do anything because Mum didn't want anything to happen to the family. Apparently, since the whole thing with Conner, Dad has been treating Mum horribly. I didn't even notice something was wrong until last night. It's been going on for days."

"Charlie, you couldn't have known, especially if they were trying to keep it a secret."

A few more minutes passed in silence. Charlie was only picking at his food now.

"Did you know that we were supposed to have another sister?" Charlie asked quietly.

Bill was taken aback. He had no clue where this was coming from. Then it all rushed back to him.

_"Mummy is having another baby!" Molly announced excitedly to little Billy._

_"You're going to have a little sister! Isn't that exciting, Billy?" Arthur asked his firstborn._

"Apparently she was still born," Charlie stated.

_"Did Mummy have Gracie yet?" an excited three and a half year old Bill asked as his dad came in through Grandma and Grandpa Weasley's kitchen._

_A redfaced, exhausted looking Arthur picked his oldest son up and carried him to the couch._

_"Son...Billy, something happened, and you aren't going to have a little sister anymore," Arthur said gently._

_"Oh." Little Billy adopted his dad's somber mood. "Daddy? Are you sad?"_

_Arthur nodded._

_"Is Mummy sad?"_

_Arthur nodded again._

_Little Billy hugged his dad as tightly as he could. Sobs racked Arthur's body as he held on to his son for dear life._

"I completely forgot about that," Bill said as he came out of his reverie. "Mum and Dad were so excited, but then…" Bill trailed off. "They never talked about her in front of me again, so naturally I forgot…How did you find out about her? You can't have remembered that. You were just one and a half."

"When Mum confronted Dad last night he brought it up and blamed her."

"Did he mean it?"

Charlie shrugged. "Sounded like it but after he sobered up he said that he didn't."

Silence fell again, each brother thinking about their forgotten sister.

"I hear the castle will be fully repaired within the next day or two," Bill broke the silence.

"Yeah. There are just a few minor details left."

"What are you going to do when it's finished?"

"Well, I was gonna go back to Romania, but with everything that's happened..." Charlie trailed off.

"Don't let this keep you from doing what you love. Mum will be fine. She has all of us here."

"I know. It just doesn't seem right. I feel like I need to be here now."

"It's up to you, Charlie."


	15. Percy's Confrontation

After a pleasant weekend with Audrey, Percy decided to pop in on his dad before work. He hadn't had a chance to talk to him since early last week, and not seeing Arthur at The Burrow the previous Tuesday night concerned him. Percy felt awful about not talking to his dad for a week especially with everything that had been going on, but work comes first with Percy unless it's a life-or-death family matter.

The door to Arthur and Perkin's office was open, so Percy didn't bother knocking. Arthur was the only one there at the moment. It was a little early for Perkins to be at work just yet.

"Good morning, Dad. How was your weekend?" Percy greeted cheerfully before taking in the scene in front of him. He wasn't always the best when it came to assessing a social situation beforehand.

The already cluttered little office was even more crowded. This was due to Arthur's large duffle bag sitting in one corner. Then Percy got a better look at his father since he had looked up from his paperwor. Dark circles hung under his eyes and short stubble covered his chin.

"What are you doing here, Percy?" Arthur asked bluntly. "I'm sure one of your brothers told you I didn't want anyone around."

Percy resembled a deer in headlights. "Uh – Um – Wait – What - What happened?" he stammered.

Arthur scoffed. "Like you don't know?"

Eyebrows furrowed, Percy responded honestly, "No. No, I don't."

Arthur looked at his son quizzically. "Really?"

"Really. I haven't had time to talk to anyone." Percy took a seat across from his father. "Dad, what happened?"

Looking at his desk, Arthur began, "Thursday night," he took a deep breath and glanced up at Percy before returning his gaze to the desk, "she left me." After saying this, Arthur looked his son in the eye.

Percy was astonished. Unable to find words, he leaned forward and put his head in his hands. Dozens of thoughts buzzed through his mind from why no one had told him to what could have ruined his parents' perfect relationship. Finally, Percy had found a single word.

"Why?" He looked up at his dad, waiting for an answer.

"After that big misunderstanding Monday, I tried talking to her like she's been wanting, but she wouldn't hear it and started ignoring me altogether. I didn't think she cared anymore, so I stopped caring as well. That led to some decisions which led to this."

"You can't just stop caring. I couldn't just stop caring about Audrey, and we have only been together two years. You and Mum have been together for thirty, _and_ you're the perfect couple," Percy said indignantly.

"Nothing is perfect, Percy."

"Do you mean that if even if the war hadn't gone the way it did, you two still would have separated?" Percy was beginning to sound like a small child.

Arthur shook his head. "No. No. I highly, _highly_ doubt that. Everything was how it had always been. All I'm saying is that our relationship had its obstacles like everyone else's."

"…Have you heard from Mum?" Percy asked hesitantly.

"No. I wasn't expecting to either."

"Oh. How about anyone else?" This question brought back the thought of why Percy's brothers hadn't informed him about their parents.

"I made it clear to them that I need to work through things on my own."

"Well, where are you staying?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"…I'm staying here."

Now Percy was becoming angry and defiant against his older brothers and mother for not keeping him in the loop and not checking on their dad. "Stay at my flat," Percy offered.

"No," Arthur immediately answered.

"Why not? It's better than staying here. Besides, you need a shave and, I doubt you could get a good shower in the auror training room," Percy argued.

"No, Percy. I'm going to tell you the same thing I told them." Just then, Perkins entered the office, greeting the two Weasleys in the process; Arthur and Percy reciprocated. Then Arthur continued in a hushed voice. "I need to deal with things on my own."

Percy adopted his father's hushed tone, but was still firm. "Dad, I'm not taking no for an answer. You don't have to talk to me about anything unless you want to. You can come and go as you please. No questions will be asked."

"I doubt I'll ever be there, Percy. Between work and…" Arthur trailed off, not disclosing where else he would be, although it was hardly a secret.

Percy understood what his father wasn't saying, but it didn't matter to him if Arthur had gone back to drinking. He felt like his family was intentionally leaving him out, so no matter what happened he would take his dad's side.

"You'll at least have a comfortable place to stay and hot meals when you are there." Now thinking about it, it didn't look like his dad had eaten much all weekend either. "We'll go to lunch today, and this evening we'll get you set up in my flat."

"The others won't take too kindly to this," Arthur attempted one last time to get Percy to change his mind.

"If they cared, they would have kept me informed," Percy replied as he stood to leave.

"Fine, but I'll only move in under those conditions…Oh. Don't worry about lunch. I won't be hungry."

"Yeah," Percy said sarcastically. "I'll see you at noon."

**oOoOo**

That evening after getting Arthur settled into Percy's flat, they both left and went their separate ways; Arthur to his usual night time activities, and Percy to the Burrow and Shell Cottage to confront his family and hear his mother's side of the story. To Percy's pleasure, Bill opened the door at the Burrow with a scowl on his face. Good, he could kill two birds with one stone.

Bill had been half expecting to see Percy on the other side of the door. He wasn't too happy with his younger, pompous brother. It had been days since their parents had separated, and he was just now coming to see his mother. He probably thought he could waltz right in and everything would be okay.

"Excellent. You're here," Percy said in a business-like tone before taking the initiative to allow himself in.

"What do you want, Percy?" Bill asked curtly, upset with his brother for the lack of support he showed his family. "We're in the middle of supper."

Upon obtaining this information, Percy strode into the kitchen with his older brother on his heels. So now they were having family dinners without him? Percy had known Bill and Fleur had moved out, so this wasn't a regular dinner. Was he even part of this family anymore?

Everyone stopped eating and became quiet as they looked up at an irate Percy.

"Look, I know I've made mistakes the past few years. I'm sorry about everything I did and didn't do in the past, alright? That's just it though. The past is the past. No one can change it. How many times do I have to apologize before I'm accepted back? I thought you all forgave me. Apparently not though, considering you are now having a family dinner without inviting me and, _more importantly_ , no one bothered telling me that Mum left Dad again! I shouldn't have to stumble upon information like that days after it happened. Was anyone ever going to tell me?

"And no one has even checked on him all weekend. I know he told everyone to leave him alone, but that doesn't give you an excuse! Did any of you even try? He's been living out of his office, and probably hasn't eaten much in just as long." Percy paused to catch his breath and reel in some of his anger, his face beet red.

This tirade from a usually calm, reserved Percy shocked everyone into silence. Everyone was staring at Percy, except Bill who was glaring at Charlie and Molly who was glaring at Bill. They all thought he knew what had happened and was just being his normal pretentious self by not showing support. Before Percy could begin again, Bill broke the silence.

"You didn't tell him?" Bill asked Charlie sternly.

Charlie immediately defended himself. "I thought you would. You're the one who handles this stuff!"

"You had the reigns on this one. You can't take partial responsibility and assume I'll take care of the rest, especially if you don't even tell me."

"Sorry, Perce," Charlie apologized, a bit embarrassed.

"As for the family dinner," Bill said, "we didn't think you cared since you never responded. But I guess we know what happened there…" Bill glanced at Charlie.

"Sorry," Charlie mumbled.

"Just make sure one of you tell me from now on," Percy spoke to his two older brothers as his mum embraced him.

"Why don't you stay for a spot of dinner, dear?" Molly requested. "We're having our own celebration for the rebuilding of Hogwarts being completed."

Percy had already eaten supper, but accepted his mother's invitation anyway. Throughout the rest of the meal, excited chatter filled the house. It was almost as if things had never changed.

No one had brought up the subject of Romania until Charlie stood up while his mother was setting the desserts on the table. Charlie cleared his throat to gain the attention of his family. "I have an announcement!"

The room became quiet and everyone looked to Charlie expectantly.

"I have been thinking about this for a while. And I have finally decided that I am not going back to Romania. I'm going to move back here, to England."

"You do realize there still aren't any dragons here, don't you?" Ron asked.

"I know."

"Where will you work? You hate being indoors," George pointed out.

"I've been offered a job at Hogwarts. I'll be working with Hagrid," Charlie answered.

"Well, I think that's wonderful, dear," Molly beamed. "Although, I am curious as to what brought this on."

"I just feel like I need to be here now, what with everything that's happened."

"Charlie, if you're staying here for me, I'll be fine. I've enjoyed you being here, but go back to Romania if that's what you'd rather do."

"No, Mum, it's more than that, alright? I love dragons, but this is where I need to be now."

"Okay. I just don't want you to be unhappy because of me."

"I won't be unhappy," Charlie reassured.

"If that's what you really want then."

Everyone was happy for Charlie, and glad he would be closer to the family now.

After dessert was finished, the four oldest boys went out to the garden, leaving the girls to clean up the kitchen and Ron and Harry to their escapades.

When they were a good ways away from the house Bill asked Percy, "So you talked to Dad then?"

Percy looked up from a garden gnome he had just kicked. "Huh? Oh. Yeah."

"And?" Charlie asked, drawing out the word.

"And what?" Percy asked.

"What did he say?"

"Not much. He wasn't in a talking mood," Percy answered honestly.

"You said he was living in his office?"

"Yes, he was."

Charlie gave a snort of laughter. All three of his brothers looked at him in disbelief. They found nothing funny about that.

"How is that funny?" Percy asked defensively.

"I find it amusing because he could have stayed here, but instead he's living in a large closet. Why didn't he rent a room somewhere? I'm sure he would love the convenience of staying at the Leaky Cauldron or Three Broomsticks," Charlie said bitterly.

"For one, there aren't any rooms available anywhere, and two, he isn't living in his office now. He's staying with me," Percy bravely informed his brother, expecting to be scolded. He had gotten a good feeling of how each person was viewing this situation during dinner.

" _What_?" Charlie exclaimed angrily. "I'll bet he told you a load of shit to make you feel sorry for him. He's using you"

"Yeah, Perce. What were you thinking?" Bill attacked.

"That he shouldn't have to live in a bloody office!" Percy said as if his brothers were stupid. "Actually, Charlie," he glared at his hot-tempered brother, "he isn't using me. I had to practically force him to move in. Our father would never use one of us. And Dad took full responsibility for what happened," Percy lied. This was one argument he did not want his brothers to win.

Up until this point, George had been looking on quietly, formulating his own opinion. Since Charlie had told him and his siblings what had taken place, George had mixed feelings about both of his parents. Of course, there was no way in hell he condoned what his father had done, but at the same time his mother had acted callously when Arthur was clearly in a bad place.

Bill responded before George could. "Even _I_ doubt that," Bill called out Percy's bluff.

"I don't think he even told you everything that happened," Charlie cut in. "Otherwise, you would hate him just as much as the rest of us!"

"Charlie has a valid point, Percy. You don't know everything, only his side of the story," Bill said.

George made to protest, but Percy beat him to it.

"How dare you say that! He raised us, so pardon me if I have some compassion for the man." Percy turned to his oldest brother. "You know, Bill, it doesn't surprise me that Charlie is acting like this, but you are the last person I expected to agree with something of the sort." Percy was furious. This outburst startled both of his older brothers. The only person present who had ever seen the usually reserved Percy this angry was George, and that was when Percy left the family.

George was now able to get a word in. "I agree with Percy. Sure, Dad screwed up horribly, but he is still our father. I don't hate him, but I do hate what he did. What he does doesn't define who he is. Everyone makes mistakes. Some are just worse than others," George stated calmly.

"The bastard abused Mum physically and emotionally! Charlie witnessed it," Bill yelled.

When Charlie had relayed to Bill what took place, he didn't leave the tiniest detail out. After telling Bill about Gracie, Charlie hadn't gotten the shocked and somewhat disgusted reaction he had expected that their parents would hide that from them. Bill vaguely remembered when his parents were expecting their first little girl and how upset they were when all of a sudden Mummy wasn't having a baby anymore. He had never thought much of it as he was only three at the time, but now the oldest sibling understood. What his father did and said was inexcusable in Bill's eyes.

"That doesn't give you the right to hate him!" Percy's anger was now fueled not only by his brothers, but by the revelation of what his father had done also.

After this little exchange, George concluded that he loved his Mum, but he wouldn't take a side that was so utterly spiteful, stubborn, and unforgiving.

"Merlin, you're being such a prat!" Charlie exclaimed. "I'm beginning to think it was a mistake allowing you back into the family –"

"Oi! I still agree with the four-eyed git, so if you reject him again, you'll have to reject me too," George defended his brother. "I love Mum, but I'm not turning my back on Dad."

Appalled, Charlie took George up on his offer. "Fine! I no longer consider either of you my brother for as long as you side with Dad, and I'm sure the others will agree." He looked to Bill for back up that never came.

Bill's anger had reached the point past yelling and arguing; he was now so heated that he was calm. Shaking his head at Charli, he stalked off. His little brother had made his bed now he had to sleep in it, and Bill was _not_ getting involved.

Fuming, Charlie stormed off to the house and called for the two youngest Weasleys to come outside. Within moments, Charlie had explained what had happened with "these two gits."

Unsurprisingly, Ron had done the exact same thing Charlie had; however, Ginny shocked everyone.

"Great job, prick. You just lost two brothers and your only sister," Ginny responded.

Not thinking before speaking, Charlie blurted, "Joke's on you. You're not my only sister."

Ginny, Ron, and Percy all stared at Charlie like he had sprouted an extra head.

"That's right! Ginny isn't the first girl in seven generations. There was supposed to be a girl between me and Percy, but she was premature and didn't make it."

"Mum and Dad would have told us something like that," Ginny shot back, not believing Charlie.

"Actually," George chimed in, "he's not lying. Dad told me about her a couple weeks ago. Mum was so torn up about it that they never talked about her. It was obvious how badly Dad needed to talk about Gracie, but since it was really only him and Mum that knew about her, he never got the closure he needed."

"That's the emotional abuse I was telling you about. Our father crushed Mum, blaming her for the failed pregnancy, making her think it was completely her fault, revealing that he had been lying all these years when he told her otherwise."

Charlie knew what he had just said wasn't true, that his dad had said these things out of anger and not truth, but he wanted his siblings to turn on their father; however, these revelations only split the family further. Ron was even more livid with his dad than he had been, if that was possible. On the other hand, Ginny was amazed her mother would do such a thing, keeping something so important a secret and causing her dad so much heartache. The way Charlie had thrown this information in the open as if the fact that they were supposed to have another sister was no big deal caused Percy to become even angrier with his older brother. George was a little more disappointed in his father, but he knew how keeping this bottled up for so long affected Arthur, and doubted his dad had truly meant a word.

"What a selfish bitch," Ginny seethed.

"Selfish bitch? More like self-centered jackass!" Ron countered.

"Hey! She made him keep it bottled up for two decades! It was really Mum's fault he blew up on her about it,"

"Either way, he had no right to treat her like that. He could have gone to a shrink if it was bothering him that bad,"

"Dad didn't mean it," George asserted.

"You don't know what he meant, George," Charlie cut in. "No one knows him anymore. He's been abusing Mum, for Merlin's sake! No one would have ever thought that would happen!"

"Dad needs to be helped, not shunned. You're a lousy son if you think otherwise," Percy accused.

At this, Charlie lost whatever control he had. He swung at Percy, hitting him square in the jaw. Percy's hand flew to the now aching spot, and stared at his brother in shock.

"No, I would be a lousy son if I turned a blind eye to how the jackass mistreated Mum!"

Before Charlie could continue or anyone could respond, the dragon trainer found himself on the receiving end of one of Ginny's bat-bogey hexes.

These two actions caused all hell to break loose. Hexes, jinxes, and fists were flying everywhere. It didn't last long though, as Molly and the others came running outside within minutes, wands drawn and expecting dark wizards to be attacking.

"What's going on?" Molly shouted over the noise.

Realizing there were no dark wizards about, Bill shot red sparks from the end of his wand. "Oi!"

All fighting ceased between the Weasley children. The brawling bunch's attention was drawn to their mother and oldest brother.

"What in Merlin's name is going on?" Molly demanded.

"Charlie?" Bill glared at his brother.

"What?" Charlie asked indignantly.

"I'm pretty sure you started this somehow."

"I don't know why you'd assume that. It was Percy who started it actually."

"I was merely stating a fact," Percy defended himself.

"Charlie was the first one to throw a punch," Ginny put in.

"You were the first to use your wand," Ron pointed out.

"Yeah, so Charlie wouldn't pummel Percy," Ginny shot back.

"Quiet!" Bill commanded.

"George, what happened?" Molly asked, seeing that he was the only one who hadn't spoken yet.

Not wanting to disclose the reason behind the fight for fear of upsetting his mother, George started from the middle. "Percy did state a fact, Charlie punched him, Ginny hexed Charlie, and then it got chaotic."

"But _why_? This family doesn't punch, hex, jinx, or curse each other, especially for no reason," Molly scolded.

No one made eye contact with their mother, except Ginny who spoke.

"How could you not tell us about our other sister? How could you make Dad not talk about her?" she attacked.

The Weasley matriarch's mood darkened. She had not been expecting this subject to be brought up, and it hit her like a ton of bricks. None of her kids were supposed to know about their sister, except the ones who already did. She didn't want them to find out, but if they did she wanted to tell them herself.

"Ginny..." Bill quietly warned.

"No. I think we all deserve an explanation," Ginny countered. "Families don't keep secrets like that."

Bill made to stop Ginny again, but his mum stopped him first.

"It's alright, Bill," she said quietly. "The only people that knew were your father and I and our parents. We never meant for anyone else to find out."

"That isn't an explanation."

"Okay…After all was said and done, it was just too hard for me." Molly took a deep breath. "It still is. We agreed never to talk about her because of that, so we never thought to tell any of you."

"It was extremely hard on both Mum and Dad," Bill added.

Molly was surprised Bill remembered the events that took place all those years ago since he was so young when it happened.

"Okay. So do you expect us to stop talking about Fred if it's too hard for you?"

Ginny realized she had gone too far as soon as the words left her mouth as the general atmosphere changed drastically.

"Ginny, go to your room," Bill commanded softly.

"You're not Dad. You can't tell me what to do," she retorted equally as calm.

"Dad isn't here, so yes I can. Go, now."

Once Ginny left, both Bill and Molly looked to Charlie. They had to deal with the matter at hand before handling a much larger issue.

"Why'd you hit Percy?"

"For one, he's housing the asshole Then he called me a lousy son."

"That is completely out of context," Percy interjected.

"What was the context then?" Molly questioned.

"All I said was Dad needs help not to be abandoned and if he thought otherwise he was a lousy son."

Things had already been extremely difficult on Molly. Their father had been a touchy subject for everyone lately. If that was the main reason for the fight, Bill knew they needed to end this as quickly as possible. "Apologize, both of you."

"I have nothing to apologize for," Charlie argued.

"I don't want his apology," Percy said tersely.

Charlie stormed off to the house without another word.

"Everyone else go inside as well," Bill ordered.

Everyone made their move, Ginny, Ron, Percy, and George dispersing to tend to their various injuries.

"Not you, Percy," Bill stopped his little brother. "We need to talk. Look, I know you want to help, but Dad doesn't want it -"

"- That doesn't mean we don't try," Percy interrupted.

"Okay. Let me finish. If he comes home drunk one night in a rage, there is no telling what could happen. Charlie and I have both agreed that he could easily overpower either one of us when he's boozed up. Our father is unpredictable and uncontrollable. You shouldn't have him staying with you."

"Thank you, Bill, but I'll do what I feel is right." With that, Percy led the way to the kitchen where their mother was.

"Are you alright mum?" Bill inquired.

"Yes. I just wish Charlie wouldn't have told them," Molly answered.

"I don't think he meant to. We had both agreed to let you and Dad decide."

"I'm surprised you remembered."

"I forgot about it until Charlie brought it up at Shell Cottage last week. I don't remember a lot of it, only the major parts."

Percy took the opportunity to hear his mum's side of the story while no one else was around. Percy approached the subject gently. "…Mum, what happened? I heard everyone else's views on what happened last week. I'd like to hear yours though."

Molly had known she wasn't done with the past couple months, but she still didn't like thinking about it, let alone talking about it; however, her son had questions and she did not want to leave him in the dark. "Percy, your father has become quite difficult recently. He wouldn't open up about anything. Instead, he turned to drinking. He hasn't been acting like himself at all either."

"Like I said earlier, Percy," Bill cut in, making sure his mum wouldn't have to tell Percy how her husband had been abusing her.

Percy picked up on what Bill meant and focused on the being closed off part. "Dad said he tried talking, but you wouldn't listen."

"His answer to everything was "I don't know": I don't know how I feel, I don't know why I feel this way, I don't know why I'm acting like this. He was just saying that to make me happy. He wasn't really talking."

Just then, a worried Hermione came into the kitchen looking for Bill. "Bill –Oh – Mrs. Weasley, I didn't realize you were in here." The brunette had only wanted to talk with Bill, so as not to upset Molly any more, but it was too late.

"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, concerned.

"Um…I can't find Ginny anywhere."

"What do you mean?" Bill queried.

"She's nowhere in the house," Hermione answered.


	16. Giving Up

Ginny ducked into a side street of Hogsmeade when she saw the trademark Weasley-red hair. Knowing it wouldn't take long for the inhabitants of the Burrow to notice she was missing, she had been on high alert the moment she left. In the past couple hours, she had searched Diagon Alley and the Ministry of Magic, successfully evading every red head and raven-haired boy she saw. The youngest Weasley understood the seriousness of what had happened between her parents, and while she didn't want to cause any more trouble, she had to get away from the Burrow and her idiotic brothers.

Having run into a dead end everywhere else, Ginny entered the Hog's Head. She had come here last due to the unfriendly atmosphere and unsavory clientele; however, this was the place she should have begun with, seeing as her quarry was at the opposite end of the bar.

"Dad!" Ginny called as she made her way through the somewhat crowded pub.

Arthur took a calming breath as he heard his daughter's voice, then downed the rest of his drink. Perhaps it was his imagination. No one he knew, other than Hagrid, would be anywhere near this place. That theory was quickly proven wrong as Ginny came to sit on a stool next to him.

"Ginny, what are you doing here?" Arthur asked in an even tone.

"I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Why?" This time a hint of harshness accompanied the question.

"I know the whole story now, and I don't want anything to do with Mum," Ginny explained.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "Please tell me you're not alone."

"Technically, I'm not. I'm with you now."

"For Merlin's sake, Ginny! You can't go roaming around by yourself with dark wizards still loose. At least you told someone where you were going, _right_?"

"No," Ginny answered apprehensively.

At that, Arthur stood, laid some coins on the counter, and grabbed Ginny.

"Where are we going?" Ginny exclaimed.

"I'm taking you home," he answered before calling out their destination into the green flames, not giving his daughter a chance to protest.

As soon as the two stepped out of the fireplace at the Burrow, Ginny began arguing and Arthur bellowed, "Molly!"

Having seen the hands move on the Weasley family clock and having heard the fireplace roar to life, it only took Molly a second before she came rushing into the kitchen.

"Oh, Ginny, thank goodness you're alright," the Weasley matriarch fussed over her daughter, ignoring her husband.

" _Molly, why was our daughter wandering around by herself in the middle of the night?"_ Arthur was livid.

"I was not wandering about," Ginny mumbled.

This time ignoring her daughter, Molly stood at full height and replied, "The kids had a row, and she slipped out while I was dealing with the boys."

"Ginny, go to your room. Your mother and I need to talk," Arthur ordered.

"No," Ginny countered. "I may be with you on this, but I still don't trust you around her, especially since I found you in a pub."

" _Ginny_ , go to your room," Molly commanded.

Reluctantly, Ginny stalked off.

Wanting to make sure her daughter was out of earshot before continuing, Molly decided to let the others know Ginny was home. "Send your patronus to Bill, Percy, George, and Harry. I'll get the rest," Molly told her husband.

Arthur went to pull his wand out, but hesitated. "No, you sent them out, you get them back."

"They're your kids just as much as mine."

"Yes, but I don't see why we both have to send a patronus," Arthur replied defensively.

"Fine. Just stand there and don't help me," Molly clipped.

Once Molly had sent her patronus to the search party, their conversation was continued.

"So you completely forgot about our daughter?" Arthur accused. "Sounds familiar, doesn't it?"

The last statement stung, but Molly schooled her features and ignored her husband's low blow. "It was chaotic. Afterwards, we discovered she was gone and I sent the boys to look for her."

"Perhaps it would be better if Ginny came to stay with me then, since you obviously can't control all the kids on your own."

"Not as long as you keep acting like this. Besides, you're staying with Percy, I hear."

"I wouldn't have to if you hadn't kicked me out."

"You had the option to stay here, but you turned it down."

"Because I didn't want to put anyone out!"

Losing his temper, Arthur created a new hole in the wall. This didn't faze Molly. She was used to it by now. She shouldn't have to be, but she was.

After a few deep breaths, Arthur started again. "You've caused all this. You initiated this separation."

"You didn't give me much choice," was Molly's rebuttal.

"I think Charlie made the choice, not you!"

"Charlie helped me realize how badly you were treating me. It was _my_ decision. And I thought I made myself clear that I don't want you anywhere near Ginny."

The boys along with Fleur and Hermione came in from the back door just then, but their appearance didn't disrupt Molly and Arthur's argument.

"She came looking for me!" Arthur shouted.

"Why would she do that?" Molly questioned.

"Why would she run away from home?" Arthur shot back.

"I told you," Ginny screamed from the doorway to the sitting room. "I don't want to stay here! I want to live with you! I'm on your side!"

"This family is _not_ splitting apart because of me!" Arthur hollered.

"It's a bit late for that," Bill mumbled.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Arthur turned to his eldest son.

"Everyone has already taken sides," George replied.

"No one is taking sides!" Arthur bellowed. "If you take sides, you'll just make this a bigger mess than it is!"

"We wouldn't be in this mess in the first place if you hadn't become a selfish drunk!" Ron backfired.

Before her father could make a rebuttal, Ginny interrupted, "Either way, I'm leaving. Harry and I can find a place to live. Right, Harry?" She looked at her boyfriend expectantly. This caught Harry off guard, and he really didn't want to go against Mr. or Mrs. Weasley. Lucky for him, both of Ginny's parents answered simultaneously, "You are staying here until you are seventeen!"

"Well, I'm moving back into my flat tomorrow. Could she –" George offered before he was cut off.

"No!" Molly and Arthur both interrupted.

After a second thought, Molly turned to George again, a bit hurt this time. "Wait. You're moving out? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just decided a few hours ago…"

"I bet it's because of what Charlie said earlier," Percy commented,

"I had every right! It's what I believe, and I think it's wrong for you all to support him after what he did!" Charlie defended himself. Chaos broke out as this restarted the argument from earlier that night.

"Everyone shut up!" Ginny yelled. When she gained the attention of the room, Ginny continued. "You two," she spoke to Ron and Charlie, "need to stop being complete dicks." Next she turned to her mother. "You…need to be more patient and open-minded, and actually _listen_ to what your husband has to say." Lastly, Ginny faced her father. "And you…you need to stop being an arse and talk to her so she can help.

"We've all been in a bloody war. We've all seen and done things in the past few years that no one should have to. No one should expect everyone to be the same, alright? We all lost a member of this family - We've all experienced similar things. No one can change the past, so we have to accept it and move on."

Everyone stared at the youngest Weasley. It was no surprise Ginny could be a spitfire at times. She shared her mother's and Charlie's temper after all, but the way she stood up to her parent's in that moment was shocking.

Recovering, Charlie said, "I'm not going back on what I said unless he changes." The rest of the siblings murmured their agreement.

Calmer now, Arthur said, "I'm done. I don't care anymore. If you all want to take sides – If you want to lose more brothers and sisters, go ahead. It doesn't matter to me." He got in Molly's face, pointed at Ginny, and added, "And from now on, keep a closer eye on your daughter," before storming out.


	17. Untitled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y'all have any suggestions for a chapter title, please let me know!

On his morning break two days later, Percy walked briskly through the halls of the Ministry. After his father stormed out of the Burrow, Percy had not had the chance to speak with him, seeing as he never came back to the flat. Percy slowed down as he approached and entered the office for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts.

"Good morning," the young redhead greeted the two occupants before taking a seat across from Arthur.

Perkins returned his greetings; however, Arthur did not. He knew this would not be a friendly visit from his son, and Percy did not hesitate to make that known.

"You haven't been back to the flat. Where did you go? I've been worried."

"That's my business," Arthur quickly responded.

Not wanting this conversation to turn into an argument before he got to the real reason he was there, Percy let it go and then asked, "Are you going to the flat tonight?"

Arthur sighed. "I don't know, Percy."

"I need a definite answer so I know to make you dinner or not."

"Don't bother."

A moment of silence passed before Percy decided to move on to the first order of business. "You're going to the joke shop's grand reopening Saturday, aren't you?"

"It depends on what I have planned."

"George really wants you there. He won't say it, but George wants you there more than anyone else. He doesn't need his sister, or brothers, or even his mother there. He needs his father," Percy stated.

"What if I have to work?"

"You can spare thirty minutes for your son. No matter how busy you've been, you have always found time for your kids."

"Are you going to be like this all the time if I stay with you?" Arthur asked bluntly.

"What?" Percy replied, taken aback.

"You had said no questions asked, yet here you are asking questions, nagging, and telling me what to do. If you're going to do this all the time, then I'll be getting my things tonight so I don't have to put up with it."

"No one has seen or heard from you in two days…You know what, I don't even know why I'm still going to help you. It was all miscommunication why I wasn't told – Hold on. Wait. I do know. I don't want to see you on the streets or living out of your office because that's pathetic."

"You know what's pathetic?" Arthur came back. "Thirty years thrown away and siblings turning against each other because of their parents! _That_ is pathetic."

"You're the one that brought all that on!" Percy countered, standing up.

"It may have started with me, but when I tried opening up that cunt wouldn't listen! So it's her fault now!" Arthur hollered.

Turning to the older, white-haired man, Percy asked, "Perkins, do you mind?" The man gladly made himself scarce.

Leaning on the desk, Percy got an inch from his dad's face and lowered his voice. "Are you drunk or have you gone completely mad? Even in the state you've been in, you wouldn't call Mum something like that."

Arthur leaned back in his chair. "It's not affecting my ability to work."

Straightening back up, Percy ran his fingers through his hair. "That's against Ministry policy!"

"I rarely drink at work," the older Weasley calmly replied.

"Either way, if Minister Shacklebolt finds out, you'll get sacked, and you can't afford that."

"The only way Kingsley -"

"- Minister Shacklebolt -' Percy interrupted.

"- would find out is if you told him, Mr. Undersecretary."

Percy began pacing around the small room. His father was putting him in a tough spot, having to choose between his dad and the Ministry.

"So, are you going to tell him?" Arthur asked after a few minutes.

Sighing, Percy made his decision, not directly choosing between either. "I won't lie if he asks."

"If I were anyone else, you would tell Kingsley immediately. You're not going to tell him just because I'm your dad," Arthur accused.

All Percy could do was shrug.

"I don't need your help, or anyone else's for that matter." Arthur didn't want special treatment from anyone for any reason. "I'd much rather deal with everything by myself! Your brothers understand that and hopefully your sister does too now, so why is it so difficult for you to understand?"

"I've already lost three years with you! I don't want to miss any more! I hate seeing you like this, but I'd rather have to see you in your worst time than not see you at all. Plus, I want to help…Let me help."

"I don't need help. There's nothing wrong!" Arthur's voice and temper rose as he stood abruptly.

"There's nothing wrong? Have you seen yourself recently? Have you seen what you're doing to yourself? How everything is falling apart? And what you did at the Burrow was completely uncalled for! I don't care what you think. This all leads back to you. Everything that has happened is no one else's fault but your own. You need to figure out what's going on before you hurt anyone else.

"And apparently I'm the only one that understood what Ginny said the other night. I know people won't be the same. I know no one can change the past. Believe me, if that were possible, I would go back to before I disowned my family, I would go back and save Fred, but I can't. I accept that and I have to live with that. We _all_ have to live with our mistakes and what has taken place in the past. It seems like only Ginny, George, and I understand that. You and Mum should get that too. You are both older and have lived through more than we have. No one - Nothing can help until you've gotten that through your thick skull. I can't help. Mum can't help. Bill can't help. _Booze_ can't help."

Arthur spoke more calmly now, but no less fierce. "No, I understand all that. I understand all that _perfectly_. _That_ is _not_ what I have an issue with."

"Well, what do you have an issue with?"

"Like I said, I tried opening up -"

Percy quickly interrupted. "Are you sure you chose the right opportunity? As I heard it, you tried talking to her when you were plastered. How is she supposed to believe anything you say when you are drunk?"

"It's her turn to take a step. I did what I could. Whatever decision she makes now is not my fault. Whatever happens from this point forward is not. My. Fault. Now, if that's all you have to say, get out."

Not moving. Percy glared at his father.

" _Get out,_ " Arthur repeated through gritted teeth. This time Percy turned on his heel and rushed out of the office. Seeing his father like this hurt him more than he would let on. He knew that if Arthur was sober, that conversation would have gone very differently.


	18. The Grand Re-Opening

Saturday morning rolled around, and Bill and Fleur met Molly and Hermione at the Burrow before heading to Diagon Alley. Harry and Ginny were already at the joke shop as they were helping George out. No matter how hard the Weasley matriarch tried, she could not convince either of her hard-headed sons to see their brother. Ron wouldn't even listen to Hermione. It broke Molly's heart with how everything was going. Her life had been flipped upside down; however, right now was not the time to think about that.

The group could barely make their way through the aisles half an hour after Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes had opened its doors. Kids were shouting, vials were bubbling, and trinkets were making an array of noises. The store had returned to its normal before the war had disrupted all businesses in Diagon Alley.

Molly spotted Ginny helping a customer and Harry at the cash register before finding George who was bounding down the staircase.

"Hello, everyone!" George exclaimed, a broad grin on his face.

"This is amazing, George! It looks like it's busier than it used to be," Hermione marveled.

"Yeah, I hope you have enough people working. Ginny and Harry would probably pass out before lunch," Bill commented.

"Verity is back. Lee, Angelina, and Katie are helping out for the meantime as well. Do you want to come into my office where it's not so loud?"

"Thank you, but Bill and I must get to work. We only had a few minutes to pop in," Fleur stated.

"She's right. Sorry, George," Bill apologized. "I'm glad everything is going well."

"I understand. Thanks for stopping by," George bid farewell. "Mum? Hermione?"

"Actually, I'm going to look around some. You don't have to wait around for me, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said.

""Whatever you want is on the house, Hermione," George called after her as she weaved her way through the crowd. "Alright, Mum, this way."

Once in the back office, Molly enveloped her son in a bear hug. It had been too crowded to do so in the store. "I am so proud of you, George," she said, patting his cheek. "Fred would be happy you opened back up," she choked.

"I know, Mum," George replied through a watery smile.

Clearing her throat, Molly asked, "So, how have you been, out on your own?"

Nodding, George replied, "I've been good. It's different, but not bad."

"You can move back home if you still aren't ready?"

"No, Mum, really. I'm fine," George assured her.

Mother and son spent the next ten minutes talking until there was a knock on the door and Ginny's head popped in. Not even looking at her mother, she informed George of an upset customer before disappearing again. This behavior was nothing new to Molly. Ever since she was told she couldn't move out until her birthday, Ginny had been colder toward her mother than she had been before.

"I guess I'll leave you to it then," Molly told George as she stood.

"I'll see you later, Mum. Love you," George said, hugging his mother.

"I love you too, Georgie."

The conversation left both Weasleys distracted. It had nothing to do with the content of the talk, but the person they were talking to. For George, he was still upset with his mum for the way she had been treating the situation with his dad, but he loved her no less. Molly sensed George's feelings and suspected that was why he moved out in the first place even though he had not explicitly stated his reasoning. She also had an itching feeling that he had lied to her about being fine by himself.

Consumed in her thoughts, Molly bumped into someone, which was already difficult to avoid with how packed the store was. Strong hands grabbed her by the shoulders, steadying her.

"Molly?" a thick Irish accent asked.

Looking up, Molly's eyes met a piercing green gaze. "Conner?"

"We really need to stop meeting like this," Conner chuckled. "How have you been?"

"Oh, I've…I've been alright. And you?"

"I can't complain. Did things work out with your husband? Is he any better?" Conner inguired innocently.

At this, Molly stiffened. "Um – No…No, not really. I – I actually kicked him out. And things have been so topsy-turvy recently, I can't think straight," she quietly answered.

His expression softening, Conner apologized, "I'm so sorry to hear that…Would you like to get some coffee and talk about it? Or just try and clear your head?"

Appalled, Molly accused, "Are you asking me on a date? I am still a married woman and –"

"No, no, no," Conner interrupted. "I'm sorry. I meant as friends. I thought it might be good to get away from everything for a little while."

Molly deflated. "Oh, okay then. I don't suppose that could hurt."

**oOoOo**

After a long week, it was finally Saturday, and Percy was eating lunch at his kitchen table when his father finally came out of the guest bedroom.

"Good morning, Dad. There's some stuff for sandwiches, or I made pancakes this morning," Percy stated politely.

"Thank you, Percy," Arthur acknowledged as he began fixing himself a cup of coffee and plate of pancakes.

Father and son were on better terms than they were Wednesday. When Arthur had come back to the flat to get his things after work, Percy had stopped him. By that time, Arthur had sobered up and was thinking clearly, so the two were able to have a civil discussion.

"I was waiting to see if you wanted to go with me to see George," Percy began. "Mum and Bill went earlier this morning, so you don't have to worry about running into them. I don't think Charlie and Ron were planning on going at all." He wouldn't say anything about his father's late night the night before as that was one of the stipulations they had gone over earlier in the week.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Arthur replied, "Um – Yeah, yeah. Let me finish this and get ready, and I'll go with you."

"Great!" the young man beamed. It had been unclear if Arthur would go to the joke shop even after their talk, so this was a nice surprise. Now Percy just hoped his dad would shave before they went.

"Oh, Dad, you'll be on your own for dinner tonight," Percy said even though his father was never there for dinner.

"Hmm, and why is that?" Arthur speculated, knowing his son was only wanting to tell him some bigger news.

"I'm…I'm proposing to Audrey tonight!" The smile that spread across Percy's face could light up a room.

Clapping his son on the back, Arthur returned the smile "Good luck, Son. She's a nice girl. I'm sure she'll say yes. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad."

**oOoOo**

An hour later, Percy and Arthur entered Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. The shop was still as noisy and crowded as ever. They spotted George straight away as he was helping a customer at the front of the store. The two observed a nearby display while they waited.

As soon as he was finished, George rushed over to his father and brother and hugged them both.

"Hey, Percy. Dad, you came!" Neither Arthur nor Percy had seen a smile that big adorn George's face in years.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, Son," Arthur grinned. "This is brilliant. I'm sure you'll sleep like a rock tonight."

"Busiest day since we've been in business."

Since Arthur hadn't seen the store recently and Percy had never seen it, George showed them around, ending with the muggle magic tricks; however, this didn't get an enthusiastic response out of his dad like he expected. Before George or Percy could ask about it, Ginny approached them.

"Hey, Percy."

"Hey, Ginny. Busy day today, eh?"

"Hi, Dad," Ginny said timidly. The whole reason she came over here was to see her dad, but after what happened, she was a bit uneasy.

"Hey, sweetie," Arthur held out his arms to hug his daughter who relaxed a little. "I'm sorry about the other night. You have to understand that it still isn't safe to go out by yourself, especially at night. It scares me to think what could've happened if you ran into the wrong person."

"Okay, Daddy. I'm sorry too," Ginny apologized. "Can we talk in the office for a minute?"

Arthur nodded then followed his daughter through the crowd. George was about to protest before Percy stopped him and mouthed that their dad was sober. This gave the brothers a chance to talk more openly.

After making sure his dad was out of earshot, George faced Percy. "Has he said anything to you? Used to, Dad couldn't get enough of this," George gestured to the muggle magic tricks..

"Honestly, George, I've barely seen him all week. Until this morning, I wasn't sure if he was even coming. "

"Should we ask him?"

"About what's bothering him?"

George nodded.

Thinking for a minute, Percy shook his head. "Not right now. He's having a good day, and I don't want to make him mad."

"Merlin, I hate this." George rubbed his hands over his face. "I wish things would go back to normal. The war fucked everything up."

Percy sighed. "I know. But we have to accept it and move on, and we can't make Dad do that. It's up to him."

George nodded his understanding. "You know, when Mum was here this morning, she tried getting me to move back to the Burrow. I told her I was fine here."

"Are you?" Percy questioned.

"Pfft. No, but I'm not moving back home. I feel bad that Ginny has to stay there. She only has Harry and Hermione really…Do you think Dad could stay with me?"

"George…I doubt he'd go for it. It was hard enough for me to convince him to stay at my place."

"I can try though, right?"

Percy shrugged. "I don't see why not."

Ginny and Arthur rejoined them, having worked things out. Being older and more mature than their sister, George and Percy knew it was temporary because next time Ginny encountered a drunken Arthur, things would fall apart again. They hadn't the heart to tell her though.

"Dad," George began, "it's been pretty tough, living by myself. I was wondering if you'd like to move in?"

"I'm sorry, George, but I'm not sure I'd be much help."

"Of course you would," George protested.

"I'm at work late most days, "Arthur lied. "So it wouldn't be all that different."

Getting rid of his sister, George asked, "Ginny, will you go give Verity a break?"

"Sure. Bye, Percy. Bye, Daddy," Ginny agreed, hugging her brother and pecking her dad on the cheek.

Waiting until she was a fair distance away, George turned back to his dad. "I know you and Mum said 'no,' but what about Ginny? She keeps telling me how much she hates it at home, and I need someone here…" George looked at his dad pleadingly.

Arthur thought for a moment. His son had a good point. Ginny had just told him how she hated it at the Burrow. There really was no reason to deny his request.

"What about Harry?" Arthur inquired.

"He's only staying there for Ginny. If she moves in with me, he can too. Or there's Grimmauld Place."

"Alright, it's fine with me," Arthur conceded. "But it's ultimately up to your mother."

"Can you talk with her? It's just that, this morning I told her I was fine here by myself because she was trying to get me to move back." George knew it was highly unlikely that his dad would agree and if he did, it would be a tense conversation between his parents, but he gave it a shot.

Running a hand through his hair, Arthur let out a deep breath. This was not a conversation he would like to have. Currently, _any_ conversation with Molly was not a conversation he'd like to have. This was for his son though, and his daughter in a way. He agreed.

"Okay. I can come by tonight after you close. Get your mother here, and don't say anything to Ginny yet. The three of us can sit down and talk."

"Thank you, Dad. Thank you. _Thank_ you," George beamed. "Well, I need to get back to work. I'm glad you came by," he said, hugging his brother and father in turn. "I'll see you around nine tonight, Dad?"

"I'll see you tonight, Son," Arthur confirmed. This would impede his own plans, but he wanted to be there for his kids.


	19. A Proposal and A Proposition

With Percy gone on his big, important date, Arthur had the flat to himself. If all went as planned, it would be late before Percy even returned. Therefore, there was no need to go spend a lot of money at a bar or pub. He could just pop out to the liquor store and save several sickles.

Arthur had been stretched out on the sofa and the next thing he knew he was flat on his back on the floor. Rubbing his forehead, he sighed then returned to his previous spot. The clock across the room read 9:23. He thought he had dozed off, but he had been asleep for nearly two hours.

 _Damn. I was supposed to be at George's twenty minutes ago_ , Arthur thought. However, he couldn't bring himself to make a move. Naps were supposed to make you feel better, weren't they? How come he felt worse than when he had nodded off then? Good news was that he was still drunk. Arthur picked up the bottle from the table and resumed his earlier activities. He could talk to George and Molly some other time.

It wasn't twenty minutes later that Percy's fireplace roared to life. Not being bothered to move, Arthur stayed sat on the couch as his son stepped through.

Sighing, George shook his head. "I should've known. You know, I was hoping you had just fallen asleep or just simply forgotten."

"I did fall asleep," Arthur pointed out, still not getting up.

Ignoring his father, he continued, "...No, I can't be that lucky, can I?" Pausing, George looked around the small flat. "Where's Percy?"

"On a special date with Audrey," was his father's simple answer.

"Does he know what you're doing right now?" George asked, not wanting to believe his older brother would allow something such as this to take place in his house.

After taking another pull of firewhisky, Arthur snidely replied, "Not unless he's psychic, which I highly doubt he is. The boy is just book smart. That can only get you so far in life. I'm surprised he's made it this far with such restricted intelligence."

"Dad, how could you say that? Percy's brilliant and ambitious. He's made it farther than any of us could in a lifetime. I mean, he has one of the highest positions in the Ministry. On top of that, he's letting you stay here regardless of your actions."

Arthur abruptly stood, having to balance himself as he did so. "Are you saying that I'm not ambitious? That I couldn't get to that position if I wanted to?"

A flashback of Arthur and Percy's row from a few years ago flitted through George's mind. Crap. He did not choose his words wisely.

"No! That's not at all what I'm saying. I'm just defending my brother since you decided to bad mouth him all of a sudden! But that's not why I came here. You gave me your word that you'd come over and help me with Mum tonight!"

"It's not a dire situation. It could wait another day or two. Something else came up and I couldn't make it." Arthur made to push past his son, but George shoved him back, causing him to lose his balance and fall back on the sofa.

"Old Ogden's is what came up. That shouldn't take precedence over your family! I'm not letting you go back on what you said. So here," George summoned a vial of Sober Up potion," you're gonna take this, clean up, and come with me."

"George, you can't -" Arthur began to protest.

" _Take it_ or I'm telling Percy what has taken place here tonight," George threatened.

In another fifteen minutes or so, the two were ready to go. However, even after the shower, George had to use a charm to conceal the stench of firewhisky.

"Son, I'm sorry -" Arthur began.

"No, Dad, don't. I don't want to hear it. The more you say it, the less it means…Let's just go."

**oOoOo**

Meanwhile, Percy led an unsuspecting Audrey to the ornate fountain in the middle of Trafalgar Square.

So far, everything had gone according to plan. After making sure he was impeccably dressed, Percy picked up Audrey and the evening started off with a stroll around Hyde Park. Next, he took his girlfriend of nearly two years to the luxurious Italian restaurant where they had their first date. Now, the bespectacled young man would pop the question in the beautifully lit square.

Upon finding a vacant spot on the edge of the fountain, Percy gestured for Audrey to sit down. Taking a knee, he pulled out a ring box with shaking hands. It wasn't until now that he noticed how light-headed he was.

Percy had a long, sweet speech prepared, but in the moment all he could manage was, "A=Audrey, will you m-marry me?"

It turned out that he didn't need a speech at all. Through happy tears, Audrey nodded her head and answered, "Yes, of course!"

Percy's lips met Audrey's as he slipped the ring onto her finger.

**oOoOo**

Upon George and Arthur's entrance, Molly rose quickly. "Oh. This is low, blindsiding me like this," she spat. She had not expected her son to come back with Arthur. The odd behavior and evasive answers he had been giving her that evening caused her to think he wanted her to meet a girl. "What? Have you finally realized how foolish you've been? Now I suppose you want me to forgive you and trust you again, just like that, after everything you've done."

George's hand caught his father's arm as Arthur turned to leave. "I'm sorry, George, but I don't have to put up with this."

"Dad, I need you…please," George whispered.

Letting out a deep breath, Arthur faced his wife once again. "I'm not here to talk about you, or me, or us. I'm only here for my kids."

"Oh. They're your kids now, are they? As I recall, the other night they were _my_ kids," Molly shot back.

Glaring at the short redhead, Arthur took a step forward. "I know what I said, but seeing as they've all taken sides anyway, we might as well go along with it. Bill and Percy are the only ones who have been mature about this and remained neutral."

"Fine, go ahead then. What is it about George and Ginny you'd like to discuss?"

Gesturing toward the table, George suggested, "Why don't we all take a seat first, shall we?"

As Molly and Arthur took seats on opposite sides of the table, Arthur continued, "I'll let George start it off."

Before he could pluck up the courage to make his proposition, George glanced nervously between his parents.

Placing her hand on her son's, Molly spoke softly, "What is it, George? You know you can always talk to me about anything."

"I know…Mum, I wasn't completely honest with you this morning." Molly raised an eyebrow, but let her son continue. "It's been difficult, adjusting to living by myself."

Now his mother interrupted. "I told you, you are welcome to move back home."

"I know. But I have to get back on my own two feet at some point, so I'm not moving back." George only told one of the reasons he wouldn't go back to the Burrow. The other reason would break his mother's heart, he knew. "This afternoon I talked to Dad and he doesn't see any issues with it, but it's ultimately your decision…Can Ginny move in with me?" he finished in a rush.

Exasperated, Molly turned to her husband. "Arthur, we discussed this the other night -"

"- Actually, it wasn't much of a discussion," Arthur countered. "Today, George appealed to my better judgement, and I don't see why she can't move in. I think it would be better for both of them."

Without hesitation, Molly answered, "No. George, I'm sorry, but no. She's only sixteen -"

"Oh, come on, Molly!" Arthur interjected. "She will be off to school in a couple months. She fought in the Battle of Hogwarts for Merlin's sake! I'm sure she can survive with her brother outside of the Burrow for a while."

" _No_. George, why don't you ask one of your brothers? Charlie is looking for a place since he isn't going back to Romania."

"Mum, they disowned me, Ginny, and Percy. Neither Ron nor Charlie will even speak to me, let alone live with me. Besides, I don't want them to."

"Well, what about your father?" she suggested, now grasping at straws.

"I'm always at work." Molly scoffed at her husband's blatant lie/ "It would be no different than George living by himself." The chair scratched the floor as Arthur stood. "If things hadn't gone to shite and I was still at home, you wouldn't have a problem with Ginny living with George!"

Rising from her seat, Molly now lost her temper as well. "You better believe it! It's not that I don't trust George. It's not that I don't trust Ginny. I do not trust _you_!"

"That's absurd! I won't even be here!"

"Mum, listen!" George raised his voice to gain Molly's attention before lowering it again. Luckily, he did not inherit his mother's temper, otherwise this kitchen would be a Weasley warzone. "I didn't want to say anything, but Ginny hates it at the Burrow. Every day she tells me how unhappy she is."

There…the bomb dropped. The ugly truth was out. Molly's heart broken - shattered even more than it already was…But she didn't show it. She did everything to hold herself together.

"Okay," Molly spoke, subdued. "Well, where will Harry be staying?"

"He can stay her too," George replied.

""You only have one extra room here, George…"

"They've been sharing the same bedroom the past couple months. If anything was going to happen, it would have happened by now."

"Okay. They can move in with you," Molly conceded, " _but_ only for three weeks. Then she's back at home."

"Thanks, Mum."

"I must get going," Arthur announced. "I'm glad I could help, George."

"Yeah. Thanks, Dad. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

After the two men went into the living room, Molly overheard their hushed conversation.

"Why don't you wait for me to bring Ginny back? She'll want to see you," George's voice said.

"George, I have other business to attend to."

"Don't you care about your kids?"

"Of course I do. I did what you asked, didn't I?"

"Only because I made you sober up and dragged you here, even after you gave me your word."

"George…"

"No, Dad. We at least deserve a straight answer. Why are you shutting everyone out? First you shut out just about everyone, then Mum, and now me. I'm not asking you to promise me or give me your word, because that doesn't mean anything anymore, but please don't do that to Ginny. It would break her. Aside from Harry, you're her world."

The only other thing Molly heard was the fireplace roar to life before George reentered the kitchen.

"George, he's going to end up hurting all three of you in the long run," his mother warned.

"You think I don't already know that?" the usually calm Weasley exploded. "Percy and I were talking about that today. Unlike everyone else, we can't turn our backs on him! I mean, you're his _wife_ , you're supposed to be the last person to give up. Besides, we haven't lost him yet…"

"George, I'm giving your father some space. I haven't given up."

"You bit both of our heads off right when we walked in. How do you expect him to get sorted out and come back if that's your reaction every time you see him?"

"George…"

The young man put his hand up to stop anything else his mother was about to say and mumbled, "I'm gonna go get Ginny and Harry."

**oOoOo**

There was a knock on Ginny's open bedroom door then George's head popped into sight. Even though it was late, it wasn't unusual for the two love birds to be wide awake.

"George!" the couple exclaimed.

"Hey. You still wanna move out?" George asked with a half smirk.

"Yeah!" his little sister answered.

"Alright then. Pack your things, both of you."

"What? How did you…" Ginny asked as she jumped up to hug her big brother.

"Ahh, it was nothing," George waved it off. "I talked to Dad about it today, and he came over tonight and helped me convince Mum. She only agreed to three weeks though, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it," he finished, winking.

"Really? Is Dad still at yours?"

"No. He – uh – He had to go…You know, Percy and all that."

It only took a few minutes to pack the couple's things since two of the three were able to use magic. They were at the first floor landing when an excited shriek came from the kitchen. Rushing to the source of the noise, the three burst through the swinging door to find Molly suffocating Percy in a bear hug, his glasses askew.

 _Special date,_ George thought. Just as George was connecting the dots, Percy extracted himself from his mother's arms and exclaimed, "I proposed to Audrey!"

"Congratulations!" his siblings and Harry shouted, hugging him in turn.

After he relayed what had happened on their date in detail, the four young adults said their good-byes to Molly, some colder than others.

"Oh, and the engagement party is next Saturday. Her parents offered to host it when I spoke to them the other day," Percy added as an afterthought.

"You can count on me to be there," his mum assured.

"Us too," Ginny answered for herself and Harry.

"And me!" George added.

On the way to the apparition point in the garden, George spoke to Percy, "Why don't you come over for a bit to celebrate? I – uh – need to talk to you about something else too."


	20. New Rules

The next hour was spent at George's flat celebrating and drinking champagne, so it was past midnight before George had the chance to talk to Percy about their father. He had also been waiting for Ginny to go to bed before bringing the subject up, but he could tell she wouldn't leave her brothers until Percy left. Sooner or later, she would have to face the facts, and she wasn't a kid anymore so there was no sense in sheltering her any longer.

As he resumed his spot in the armchair, George said, "I'm happy for you, Perce, but we need to talk about Dad…" George glanced at his sister before continuing. "Do you let him drink at your place?"

Looking at George quizzically, Percy replied, "I don't think it was explicitly stated either way. Why?"

"You were there this afternoon when he said he'd help me out with Mum. When he didn't show up, I went to get him. He told me that something else had come up and that's why he didn't come…Percy, he was wasted, and when he left here, he said that he couldn't stay because he had other business," George finished sourly.

"I hate to tell you this, George, but that's the reality of it. For the week he's stayed with me, he's been out late every night. Like tonight, I went home to tell Dad first because he was the only person who knew I'd be proposing tonight, but he wasn't there."

"Wait, so you know he's been drinking and you just let him?"

"Since I had to practically force him to move in, he has one rule for me: Don't ask questions. When I did the first couple days, he almost left, so I let him do his thing and I do mine. I hate it, but that's the way it is," Percy stated, leaning back in his chair.

Before the conversation went any further, George turned his attention to Ginny once more. "Gin, I think you ought to go to bed now." Initially, he thought his sister could handle this topic, but as things progressed he thought better of his earlier decision.

Sitting up straighter, Ginny countered, "I'm nearly seventeen. I don't need my brothers babying me anymore."

The red-headed young men shared a look, and Percy shrugged. "Well, she's old enough to make her own choices."

"Okay…Look, it's time we confront him about this. It's gotten to the point where he's putting booze before his family and he's shutting everyone out. I don't think he even cares anymore - about his family or himself, or anything for that matter."

"The way Percy put it, if we pester him, we'll be pushing him away," Ginny pointed out, snuggling close to Harry on the couch.

"Make a new rule then," George suggested. "While he lives with you, he can't drink there, at a pub, or anywhere else. You won't be breaking his rule, so there shouldn't be an issue."

"But that means if he breaks it, Percy will have to kick him out. Give him time. Dad'll come around eventually."

"He's had time, Gin. The longer it goes, the worse it gets," Percy informed.

"We'd be giving up on him then! That would make us no better than Mum, Charlie, and Ron!" Ginny countered, beginning to get worked up.

"No, it wouldn't," George assured his little sister. "A new rule will be put in place and it is up to Dad to follow it or not."

"Whatever happens is on him, not us," Percy added. "We'll still do what we can."

After a little more discussion and agreeing on a new plan of action, the four celebrated Percy's engagement a bit more. This made it close to two in the morning when Percy left. Having become half-cut due to losing track of time and drinks, Percy thought it safer to walk the short distance home rather than apparate or floo.

The street wasn't entirely deserted. A few groups of young, partying witches and wizards along with the occasional, lone drunk littered the cobblestone pathway. Since it was closing time for Diagon Alley's few late night bars, Percy wasn't surprised. As he approached one of the bars, a middle aged man stumbled out in front of him; however, the man did not notice his son fifteen feet behind him.

Wanting to avoid a scene, the bespectacled 22 year old kept his distance and waited to make himself known until he and his father were in the privacy of his home. Arthur was completely oblivious until the door opened and shut behind him, causing him to spin around unsteadily.

"Other business," Percy scoffed. "We aren't ignorant, you know."

Immediately becoming defensive, Arthur asked, "Why are you getting in so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing," was Percy's rebuttal.

"I can come and go as I please with no questions asked," Arthur reminded.

Making his way to the kitchen, Percy replied, "Calm down. I said that I could, not that I would. Besides, I already know what you were doing."

Picking up on his third son's unusual behavior, Arthur accused, "You've been drinking."

"Yes. Great deductive reasoning. I'm truly impressed," Percy snarked.

With a snort, a smirk appeared on Arthur's face. "Now you have no room to talk when I drink."

"Actually, I still do. I rarely drink and when I do it's usually for a special occasion. George wanted to celebrate since Audrey said yes."

"What did he tell you about me?" Arthur became defensive once again.

"Nothing," Percy lied. "You would've been the first to know, but you weren't here."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"That you were not here," Percy repeated slowly. Not wanting any further conflict with his father, Percy ended the conversation. "Well, I'm exhausted. If you don't need the bathroom, I'm going for a quick shower before bed."

This lack of confrontation threw Arthur for a loop. With Molly fighting back all the time, he had gotten used to the conflict. Now with his son's calm demeanor, he was completely thrown off. Furrowing his eyebrows, Arthur stuttered, "Um…N-no. You're – I'm fine. Go ahead."

**oOoOo**

Sunday morning Arthur woke, his head pounding and overall feeling worse than the night before. Carefully, he got up and dressed. When he entered the living room, he found two of his sons talking amongst themselves.

"Morning," Arthur quietly greeted, taking a seat in the vacant armchair. "Did Ginny and Harry get settled in alright last night, George?"

Raising an eyebrow, George responded, "If you'd stayed, you would already know."

After glaring at George for a moment, he turned his attention to Percy, "How did things go with Audrey?"

"Do you even remember last night?" Percy queried.

"Of course I do," Arthur half lied. The first part of the night, he remembered. The rest, he was completely blank on. That wasn't unusual though.

Picking up on his father's dishonesty, Percy answered with a hint of hostility, "She said yes. I wanted you to be the first to know, but you were too busy doing your best to burn bridges."

 _Great. What did I do?_ Arthur thought. His sons wouldn't be this spiteful unless he had really screwed up.

"Shouldn't you be at the shop, George?" he politely asked, attempting to ease the tension.

"I left Verity in charge for the morning because I needed to be here," George replied. He felt he needed to be there for the impending conversation and he wanted to see the ugly reality of which Percy spoke.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Arthur prepared himself for the worst "Alright, what did I do? I had to have done something for you both to be like this."

The boys quickly glanced at each other. It was time, and since it was Percy's house, he would take the reins.

Sitting straighter, Percy began, "Father…"

There was that word. The word Arthur hated hearing any of his kids call him. Had their relationship regressed that much in the past sixteen hours? Surely, he would have remembered if he had done something to cause that to happen.

"This has to stop. I've opened my home to you in hopes that everything would blow over and you would get your life back on track, but you've taken that and thrown it in my face."

"Son –"

" – No, _don't_ interrupt me," Percy put his hand up to stop his father. "You've gotten a lot worse in the week you've been here, shutting everyone out and putting alcohol before your family." Arthur looked ready to protest, but quickly sat back when both of his sons fixed him with a steely gaze.

"We don't know what's going on," George picked up. "You need to talk to a professional about this. Last night, Harry said something about a…therapist – psychiatrist – something or other. They're a type of muggle doctor. If you can't get things under control soon, you'll have to see one if you want to stay with any of us."

"So from this point forward, you can't drink at all while you live with any of us. What you do now is up to you," Percy finished.

Anger rising, Arthur accused, "You're going to abandon me like the others!" Even after how these three kids stood up for him, they were turning their backs on him?

"No, you have a choice," George pointed out.

"You can't give me an ultimatum like this! I am your father!"

"Who is acting like a child!" Percy cut him off.

George chimed in, "What we've been doing has been hurting more than helping."

"We are doing our part, but this won't work if you don't put in some effort."

"There is nothing that needs effort." Arthur stood, causing his sons to do the same. "I don't have the energy to put in any more effort. That is, if effort was needed for anything, but it's not."

"None of us are turning a blind eye anymore, Dad, not even Ginny."

"Why are you so stubborn? Huh? You are just as aware that this family is falling apart as the rest of us, and you can't deny that it's your fault!" George burst out.

"That's it! I don't have to stand here and take this!" Arthur strode across the room, but stopped short of the door when Percy spoke.

"You take another sip of alcohol and you're not living with either of us! And we can tell when you've been drinking, so don't even try to hide it!"

"I'm not! I'm – I'm – Aargh!" Arthur's fist collided with the wall as he lashed out in frustration. "I'm going to work!" he shouted, slamming the door behind him.

Arthur did indeed go to work. There were few people at the Ministry that day due to it being a Sunday, so he had the time alone that he needed. The peace and quiet and work helped to ease his anger and frustration. It also gave Arthur time to think. A few hours at work and he had decided that he would rent the flat he had been looking at the previous week. Since most of the kids had graduated Hogwarts and moved out, there was a little more money available, so there would be no difference in expense than five years ago when Percy, the twins, Ron, and Ginny had all still been at school. It wasn't a pricey apartment either, like Percy's or George's. On the contrary, it was dirt cheap because of the neighborhood which meant he would still have money to do as he pleased.

With his own place, Arthur could do anything he liked. No one would be watching. No one would know. It would be like it was several weeks ago when he would be in his shed. Now, though, the only responsibility he would have was to work and continue to provide for himself and his family.

Luckily, the apartment building he would soon be living in was still taking applications. However, the landlord told him it would be another week before he could move in. His new place of living was conveniently located halfway between the Ministry and Diagon Alley. While he was out, Arthur stopped by the store and picked up a flask, seeing as the next week he would not be able to go out late. He would place a extension charm on it in order to hold an entire bottle rather than just eight ounces.

That evening when Arthur went back to Percy's, Bill was there instead of George. Why, all of a sudden, did Percy feel the need to bring all of his siblings into this? Surely, they all had better things to do.

Without giving his sons a second glance, Arthur headed straight for the spare bedroom. Unfortunately, his entrance did not go unnoticed. Of course, he had not been drinking, so there was no need to worry about that, but he would rather be left alone.

"Dad," Bill spoke from the kitchen.

A heavy sigh escaped as Arthur halted and faced his son, but did not look directly at him.

Upon realizing his father was sober, Bill visibly became less tense. "You need to listen to us. Mum is extremely torn up about this. She doesn't know life without you just as you don't know life without her. You don't want to do this to her, do you?"

" _She_ left _me_ ," Arthur bit off. "This is a conversation you need to be having with her."

Crossing over to his father, Bill corrected, "That happened because of _your_ actions. If you sort yourself out, she will gladly take you back. None of us want this, the way it's going."

Calming himself, Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Sensing Arthur's increasing temper, Bill took a step back and Percy came to stand next to his brother. Their father had never been an angry or violent man, especially when he was sober, but in the past weeks – or perhaps months – he was a force to be reckoned with.

"I've found a place to live," Arthur looked at Percy now as he spoke. "However, I won't be able to move in until after next weekend. Then, no one will have to bother with me."

Percy stared at his father, struck dumb. Neither he nor George thought Arthur would choose to leave. Both of them, along with Ginny, wanted to avoid the outcome of their dad leaving or being kicked out. If they approached the situation correctly then things would get back to normal, or so they thought.

"Dad, you don't have to do that. You are more than welcome to continue staying here," Percy reassured.

"No, I'm not – Not with what you said this morning. You gave me a choice, and I made it. I'm not having people in my business and constantly watching my every move." When there was no response or rebuttal from either of his sons, Arthur said, "Now, if we're done here…" before continuing his path to the bedroom. He was stopped again though as the younger of the two boys spoke up again.

"Well, I still would like you to come to my engagement party Saturday night. Won't you come?"

Without facing his sons, Arthur gave a noncommittal shrug and left them on their own.


	21. The Engagement Party

The first two days, Arthur abided by his sons' rule of not going out to drink, but when Percy wasn't at home, he had his flask and when Percy was at home, he would retreat to the guest room. Come Tuesday, Arthur abandoned this tactic and began going back to the bar which he had frequented, not caring if his son kicked him out or not. His office would suffice until he was able to move into his new place. However, there was no retribution for his actions. The late nights were obvious, but Percy had not been a big fan of the new rule in the first place and he did not want to deepen the rift between him and his father, especially before his engagement party.

Thursday morning an owl came informing Arthur that he would be able to move into the flat that night if he wished. Taking the opportunity to move in early – or rather, move _out_ early – he told Percy and left that evening. There were no angry words or sudden outbursts from either man, but Percy had to admit he was disappointed. It had been nice having his father live with him no matter how stressful.

When Saturday rolled around, Percy had yet to receive confirmation from his father if he would be attending the party. Since Arthur moved out, he hadn't heard from him at all, and neither had his siblings. It was a pleasant surprise when Percy opened the door at Audrey's parent's house to find his dad standing on the other side.

"Dad!" the young man exclaimed, pulling Arthur into a hug. "I wasn't sure if you were coming."

"I wouldn't miss this," Arthur replied as he stepped over the threshold.

"Daddy!" Ginny bounded up to her father, pecking him on the cheek. George was right behind her to greet his dad as well. The two siblings and Harry had been the first to arrive and were the only guests so far. The party still wasn't due to begin for another ten minutes though, so that was understandable.

"I hope you're not angry with me, Dad," George voiced quietly.

"Don't know why I would be, Son," Arthur answered, even though he knew exactly why George would think that.

When the four entered the living room, Arthur shook Harry's hand, greeted Audrey, and was formally introduced to her parents. They hadn't been talking five minutes when there was another knock at the door and the newly engaged couple disappeared to answer it. When they came back, they had Molly, Hermione, Bill, and Fleur in tow.

No matter how hard she tried, Hermione couldn't convince Ron to come. Molly also was unable to do so with her youngest and second oldest sons.

The group in the living room stood to greet them; although, Ginny and George's wasn't as warm to their mother as the others, and the exchange between Molly and Arthur was brief and stiff.

Shortly after the new arrivals appeared, Arthur excused himself to the restroom. Once in the privacy of the dimly lit room, he took a few gulps from his flask. The arrival of his wife caught him off guard. It had been a week since he had seen her and even longer since they had actually talked. Then with everything that had occurred, he did not think it likely that Percy would invite her.

After having composed himself, he blew out a deep breath and opened the door to discover Percy leaning on the wall waiting for him.

Percy stood up straight and stopped his father from walking past him. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but if you knew, you wouldn't have come. I wasn't going to not invite my own mother. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't drink tonight. One glass of champagne and that's it. There doesn't need to be an unnecessary scene." Percy held out his hand. "Give me the flask." While Arthur was still living with him, Percy had picked up on the fact that his father had taken to carrying around a flask.

Arthur looked at him incredulously. "I'm not going to cause a scene."

Glaring at his father, Percy stated, "I know how you get when you're intoxicated. You act abominably. This is my engagement party and you have just met these people, so all I ask is that you drink only one glass of champagne and no other alcohol."

"Fine," Arthur huffed as he handed over the silver container. "But I'd really rather not be sober with present company," he added under his breath.

"You'll just have to deal with it in a civil manner."

No one suspected a thing when father and son rejoined the group. Other guests had started to arrive, and everyone was preoccupied with their own conversations.

Within thirty minutes, the house had exploded with people. Just as her immediate family, Audrey's extended family wasn't very large. It was mostly Weasleys that filled the house. Three of Arthur's five remaining brothers had come, along with their wives. About half of the Weasley cousins had brought their girlfriends, fiancés, and wives along.

"Ian and Desmond hate they couldn't make it, but they had prior engagements," Arthur's older brother Trenton was saying to Arthur and George when Muriel approached.

"Arthur," she greeted, not bothering to hide her hostility for the man.

"Muriel," Arthur nodded curtly.

"Where is your soon-to-be ex-wife?" the old woman goaded. Other than Percy, Arthur was the first person she had seen that she recognized upon her arrival. Knowing her, Arthur knew Muriel was mainly asking him in order to make a few snide remarks.

Not being able to help himself, Arthur scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Don't know where you heard that from, but you have been misinformed."

"Really now? Because I hear you're separated and if you don't get yourself straight she is going to divorce you."

"My _wife_ is just over there," he answered, not falling into Muriel's trap to start an argument.

Without any further remarks, the old bat shuffled off in the direction Arthur pointed.

Trenton looked confused and hurt this exchange. "Arthur, why didn't you tell me?" Out of the seven brothers, Trenton, Arthur, and Billius had always been closest. The oldest of Arthur's brothers, Alexander, always preferred keeping to himself, much like Percy. Due to the four year age gap between Arthur and Neil, the three youngest ones – Neil, Ian, and Desmond – had a tendency to stick together.

"Molly and I have hit a snag, but we're fine," Arthur snapped. Immediately regretting the tone he had used, Arthur apologized. "I'm sorry, Trenton. I know. We've always told each other everything."

"It's alright. You know, Neil had a difficult time with his divorce a few years back. Maybe you ought to talk to him about this," Trenton suggested.

Putting a hand up, Arthur responded, "No. I don't want anyone to know, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything. Now, can we change the subject please?"

"Sure," Trenton agreed. "But, I'm here if you ever need anything."

"Thanks."

For those who knew Arthur, it did not slip their notice that he was not himself. Of course, his kids and Molly were not surprised by this. Since the war's end, this had become his new normal. Whereas most people didn't mention this obvious change, a few asked if he was alright or why he was so reserved. The answer anyone who asked received was "I'm fine."

About halfway through the party, Arthur had to step out for some air. Attempting to act cheerful and socialize had worn him out. The night air was cool on his face, and the solitude of the backyard was a relief; however, he was not alone for long. He glanced behind him when he heard the door open and turned completely to face the person who had just exited the house.

"Dad, is everything alright?" his daughter asked.

Arthur nodded briefly and gave Ginny a tight, forced smile. "Did you need something, sweetie?"

"It can wait. Just find me when you come back in." With that, Ginny left her father alone once again.

It had only been what felt like minutes before the glass door slid open behind him again.

"I'll be there in a minute, Ginny," Arthur spoke sharply, not bothering to turn around this time.

"You aren't so far gone that you get withdrawals if you don't drink," Molly stated abruptly.

"No, I'm not. I've been like this for months, if you cared to notice," he shot. Even though he had always loved being around people, lately Arthur preferred being by himself. There had been other periods in his life where he felt this way. Sometimes there was no apparent reason what brought these episodes on but other times there was, such as after Billius died, or after they lost Gracie, or after the snake attack. Each time, it would last longer or shorter than the others. There had never been a pattern. This particular instance began when the family had to go into hiding at Muriel's in April and worsened after Fred was killed. All the other times he was able to hide it or disguise it, but this time was different because he had no energy or drive to do so.

"Why?" Molly asked. Even though the last part of her husband's answer offended her, she kept calm, not wanting to cause a scene.

"I don't know," Arthur answered quietly, still not facing his wife.

Attempting some light conversation, Molly asked, "Well, how have you been?"

Shrugging, Arthur slumped a little and sighed heavily.

"That can't always be your answer."

"It can when it's the truth."

Neither husband nor wife spoke for several minutes, each wondering what the other was thinking, until Arthur finally broke the silence.

"Why are you out here?" Arthur asked weakly.

"It's been weeks and I haven't heard from you." She moved closer to her husband. "I want to try and work things out." Of course, what her husband had done was inexcusable, but Molly knew he wouldn't have done or said those things if he was in his right mind. Her conversations with Conner had given Molly some insight into what Arthur was going through and the weeks apart had given each person time to think and work through their feelings toward one another, Molly more so than Arthur.

Spinning around, Arthur spoke loudly, "And you think I haven't wanted that? I have tried talking to you, but you won't listen .Like just now, I'm sober and being _completely_ honest with you, and you still say that isn't a valid answer. Go ahead, ask me anything and you'll get an honest-to-God answer."

The following questions and answers occurred in quick succession.

"Why aren't you inside?" Molly asked. "You've always loved a house full of people to talk to."

"I just need a minute."

"You've never needed a minute before," she pointed out.

"Yes, I have," Arthur corrected.

"No -"

"I know me better than you do, Molly," her husband interrupted firmly, pointing to himself then her.

"Okay. Why didn't you cast a patronus a few weeks ago?" Molly asked, referring to the night Ginny ran away. It had been bothering her ever since because she had gotten the impression that it wasn't out of spite that he hadn't cast it.

Not expecting that to be one of her questions, Arthur faltered. "I-I couldn't." He glanced away from his wife and scratched the back of his neck before continuing softly, "I haven't been able to for quite some time now."

"Why not?" she asked gently.

"I'm not sure. I've tried, but I can't," he answered, looking back at his wife.

Next came the big question. However, she didn't expect to get a straight answer. "Why have you been drinking so much?" she deadpanned.

But Arthur answered without hesitation. "Because it helps."

"Helps with what?" she inquired.

"How I feel."

Perhaps, he really did want to work things out. His answer to the follow-up question would confirm or disprove that theory.

"How do you feel?"

"I don't know," Arthur answered honestly.

Being able to know her husband was telling the truth, Molly prompted, "Maybe if you tried explaining it..."

"It's hard to put into words." But he could put it into words though, or at least partially. However, he couldn't find the courage to. Having Septimus as his father, it had been drilled into him from an early age that men weren't supposed to share their feelings. This always caused difficulty when he needed to become vulnerable, even if it was just with his wife. That is also why no one, including Molly, had caught on to any of his previous episodes that were similar to this. The difference now was that it was the worst one and he had stopped caring.

"I can't help and we can't work anything out if you don't describe how you're feeling," Molly stated calmly.

"Look, I've answered your questions best I can. Now it's up to you." Having said his piece, Arthur went back into the house to find his daughter, leaving Molly to contemplate what had just been said.

The house was still full of people and the party was still going strong even though it was supposed to end in thirty minutes. Arthur saw Percy and Audrey speaking to Alexander and his wife, Harry and some of the Weasley cousins in what resembled a press conference, George displaying some of his products to Audrey's cousins, Trenton and Neil discussing something quietly by themselves (He hoped it wasn't about him), and Muriel fussing about something to Bill and Fleur (He knew it probably was about him). Finally, he found Ginny with Hermione in a corner.

"What did you need, princess?" he asked as he approached the girls.

Looking up at her dad, Ginny replied, "Oh, Harry wanted to talk to you. He wouldn't tell me what about. I think he's talking to Uncle Trent and Uncle Ian's sons and their wives and girlfriends. The sooner you rescue him, the more thankful he'll be."

As Arthur made his way to Harry, he had to pass Trenton and Neil. Maybe he could catch part of their conversation. Instead of overhearing them, they stopped him.

"Arthur," Neil called, "is everything okay?"

Before answering with a question, Arthur shot Trenton a suspicious glance, "Why wouldn't it be?"

"You disappeared for a half hour." Neil replied, puzzled at his usually calm brother's abruptness.

"Oh." Arthur became less defensive. "I had to get some air."

Somewhat satisfied with this answer, Neil became distracted as one of Alexanders' sons pulled him off to show him pictures of his kids. This gave Arthur the opportunity to speak to Trenton privately.

Putting his hand on his brother's shoulder, Arthur led the way to a less populated corner of the kitchen. "Did you tell him?" he asked anxiously.

"What? No," Trenton answered indignantly. "I gave you my word I wouldn't say anything to anyone. Neil asked me if I knew why you have been acting strangely tonight, and I told him I wasn't sure." Trenton didn't feel all that bad about lying to Neil; it didn't really feel as though he were lying at all. He knew Arthur was telling the truth about him and Molly, but there was a bigger issue that even he couldn't put his finger on. And the way Arthur's family didn't seem bothered by this behavior hinted that this wasn't new. "Neil isn't the only one who has noticed. My kids and some of the nephews have asked."

"Great," Arthur said bitterly.

Changing the subject, Trenton asked, "Do you wanna grab a pint after this? It's been a while since we've gotten together."

Taking a deep breath, the younger brother pondered this invitation then answered, "Maybe some other time. I'm already exhausted…If you'll excuse me, I need to find Harry."

While he weaved his way through the crowd, Arthur noticed Molly had come back inside and was talking to Audrey's mum. When he found Harry again, it was no surprise he was still trapped, answering an array of questions from the Weasley cousins. In fact, it looked like more had found their way to The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"Harry!" Arthur called as he patted the young man on the shoulder.

"Mr. Weasley!" the raven-haired boy said with a sigh of relief.

"Ginny said you wanted to speak with me?" the older gentleman asked as he led the dark-haired boy away from the large group.

"Yes, sir," Harry confirmed. "I was wondering if the two of us could get dinner sometime this week, or next. Whichever works best for you."

Scratching his chin, Arthur replied uncertainly, "I don't know about that, Harry. I've been busy at the Ministry and -"

"- Please, Mr. Weasley," Harry interrupted, "It's really important."

"What about George's shop? I hear it has been chaotic and he doesn't close until eight or nine o'clock at night."

"I've already spoken with him," He had indeed spoken with George and received permission for two nights off; one for Arthur and the other for Molly. Even though Harry didn't tell George why, George thought he knew. "He said to figure out a day and let him know."

Not sure what this was all about, Arthur furrowed his eyebrows but agreed to Wednesday night at six o'clock.

A loud squawk came from across the room just then. Everyone's attention was drawn to a large canary sitting in a wooden chair. The house burst into laughter at the sight of the yellow bird that was now molting. Even a genuine smirk was provoked from Arthur.

"George Fabian Weasley!" Molly shrieked. "Is that your Great Aunt Muriel?"

However George was too busy trying not to hyperventilate from laughing so hard. For most of the family, it was pleasant seeing George this happy, but his mother was not amused. She grabbed her son by the arm and dragged him outside, her other three kids and husband on their tail.

As soon as George's laughing fit subsided, Molly began her rant. "George, that was completely uncalled for! She has done nothing to you! I want you to go in there right now, put her back to normal, and apologize!"

"Hold on! She'll be fine by the time we get back in there. The old bitch has been bad mouthing Dad all night and criticizing everyone else, even after you told her to stop. I'm not apologizing for anything," George argued.

"I don't care! That was –"

"Molly, it was a harmless prank," Arthur interrupted calmly.

"Don't you go approving of his unruly behavior, Arthur -"

"You need to make up your mind, Mother," George cut in. "I thought you wanted me to get back to normal. If Fred was here, he would have snuck her a Canary Cream an hour ago."

"And he would be in just as much trouble" Molly chided. "We just met Audrey's family –"

"They all found it hilarious," Percy interrupted this time.

"It really wasn't as bad as you're making it out, Mum." Bill added.

"Molly, you need to take a minute to settle down," Arthur told her as she started to admonish her son again.

"Seriously, chill," Ginny interjected.

This did not help her mother to "chill" however. Now Molly rounded on her daughter. "That's it! You're coming back home _tonight_."

"What! No!" Ginny protested. "You said three weeks, and it's only been one!"

"Yeah! You can't do that!" George joined.

"I can do whatever I damn well please."

"Dad!" Brother and sister looked to their father for assistance.

Before saying anything, Arthur had to close his eyes and take a couple deep breaths in order to rein in his rising temper. There was a house full of people who he did and did not know. Either way, he did not want to cause any more of a scene than what had been caused already. When he knew he had control of his anger, he faced his wife. "You did say three weeks," he stated evenly.

"I didn't expect something like this to happen though. How am I supposed to know Ginny is being well taken care of if things such as this are happening?"

"This was a prank. He owns a joke shop. George has been a jokester his whole life. What did you expect?" Arthur's voice rose somewhat.

"He has a point, Mum," Bill acknowledged as Percy nodded his agreement.

Thinking it would be better for all of them, Arthur sent the kids inside while he waited with Molly as she cooled down.

Upon reentering the house, cheers and whistles came from the guests. George braced himself for what was to come as an irate and humiliated Muriel marched up to him.

While his wife paced up and down the patio continuing her rant, Arthur took a seat in one of the patio chairs and rested his head in his hands. This whole ordeal had made him more exhausted than he already was, and Molly wasn't helping, making it a bigger deal than it was. He only heard parts of what the infuriated woman was saying.

"George should know better…This was completely unacceptable...I can't believe…And then you…" were a few things he heard until he stood up suddenly and stopped her.

"Whoa oh oh! Don't even try blaming me for anything! All I was doing was being reasonable!" Arthur defended himself a little louder than he should have. Thankfully, the house was still noisy.

Molly pointed her finger at Arthur. "We are supposed to be a united front when it comes to parenting our kids, Arthur!"

Aware that this was becoming an argument between the two of them, Arthur cast a muffliato charm before continuing. "Not anymore! You shouldn't even have a say when it comes to George and Ginny!" Arthur lost whatever control he had on his temper. "They made their decision! They chose their parent, and it was not you!"

"They shouldn't have had to choose in the first place!" Molly broke in.

"After tonight, I'm afraid they won't have anything to do with you! The words Mother or Father have never left George's mouth before!" Taking a few deep breaths, Arthur then added a little more calmly, "Ginny is not going back to the Burrow if she doesn't want to, now or in two weeks." Not giving his wife a chance to protest, he left her alone on the patio.

The first person Arthur wanted to find when he got back into the house was Percy. However, even though the party was supposed to be ending right now, no one had begun to leave. It seemed that the kids had all bounced back from their mother's tirade, because they had all scattered and were acting as if nothing had happened.

Seeing his brother red-faced and breathing heavily, Trenton stopped him on his way to Percy. "Arthur," he said sternly as he grabbed his arm.

"Don't," Arthur bit out through clenched teeth, not bothering to stop.

Finding his son, Arthur pulled a puzzled Percy to the side. "Percy, give me my flask," he ordered.

"No," Percy refused. "When everyone leaves, you can have it."

Having seen Arthur, Bill and George walked up to their brother and father. "What's going on?" Bill asked.

"He wants his flask," Percy answered, frowning.

"When did you start carrying a flask?" George asked.

"Since we talked to him Sunday," Percy replied.

"Did you talk to her?" George asked, even though it was obvious there had been some sort of exchange between his parents.

"Ginny can stay with you as long as she likes. If you have any more issues, come to me."

When the group noticed people near them were paying attention to their conversation, the four took it out front, seeing as Molly was still on the patio. After the rest of the conversation, Arthur asked Percy for his flask once more. Of course, Percy did not budge from his earlier answer.

"Come on, Percy. People should've started leaving by now. I did as you asked…Please?" Arthur pressed.

"Dad, you've gotten used to drinking whenever you get angry. Take a few more minutes to cool down," Bill replied.

Having no choice, Arthur paced in front of the house for several minutes before going back inside to find his brother. The small house had become more open since guests had started filtering out. He noticed Molly had come back in, but he paid her no attention as he passed. The three brothers who had come were in a group on the far side of the room.

"Do you still want to go the bar tonight, Trent?" Arthur asked without preamble.

"You know me, I'm always down," Trenton agreed, a broad smile spreading across his face. "Not much has changed in twenty years."

Another twenty minutes passed and only immediate family, Trenton, and Neil were left, everyone helped clean and straighten up. Percy discretely returned the flask to his father. The three older Weasleys said their good-byes.

As he waked out behind his two brothers, Arthur did not notice Molly had followed them.

"Arthur?" Molly spoke up once they reached the porch.

Stopping in his tracks, Arthur breathed heavily as he turned around.

"I was wondering if we might talk for a moment," Molly said timidly.

Not removing his piercing gaze from his wife, Arthur told Trenton and Neil that he would meet them there.

"I told George that Ginny can stay as long as she wants. I won't be happy if you try undermining me," Arthur said.

"That's not what I wanted to discuss."

"Well make it quick. Trent and Neil are waiting for me." Arthur took out his flask and took a swig before putting it back in his pocket.

"Have you been drunk this entire time?" Molly asked, appalled.

"No," Arthur answered honestly. "Percy confiscated it from me upon my arrival," he finished sorely.

"Oh. Well I was thinking about our conversation earlier. Something has to change before we work on things. You need to sort yourself out first." Closing the gap between her and her husband, Molly placed a hand on his chest as Arthur eyed her cautiously. "I do love you, Arthur. That's why I'm doing this. It is in everyone's best interest. No one likes it when you drink and you need to put a stop to it while you still can...You don't need to end up like Bilius, drinking yourself to death."

Even though he didn't understand how it was in everyone's best interest, Arthur nodded his head. He felt more alone now than he ever had

"I know it will take time, but come back to me." She stood on her toes to kiss her husband, but he backed away, this rejection causing her to feel worse than she had during any of their fights. This separation made Arthur more cold and distant than he had ever been.

Without a word, Arthur turned on the spot and disparrated.


	22. A Drunken Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Minor Sexual Content

Arthur didn't have to be told which bar he and his brothers were going to. From the moment he graduated Hogwarts until he was twenty-six years old, Arthur would go out on the weekend with Trenton and Bilius to the same bar, The Paramount. At first, he only went once a month, but over the years, it gradually became more frequent until it was every weekend. It wasn't until Percy was born that he stopped going out with his older brothers. He and Molly needed the extra money and she needed help with the kids at night. Another reason he stopped was because Molly was becoming concerned with how much he was drinking. She saw how Arthur's brothers were and saw the path they were headed down and didn't want her husband going the same way. Of course, Molly was right; Bilius never settled down and practically drank himself to death in 1989, and Trenton, even though he married and had four sons, continued going to the bar with Bilius every weekend. Since Neil's divorce seven years ago, Trenton had recruited his younger brother.

As he entered The Paramount, Arthur noticed it hadn't changed much. There was a live band and a moderately-sized dance floor. The bar ran the length of the wall opposite the stage, and tables and booths were spread on the outskirts of the dance floor. It had never been like a typical bar. The proprietors wanted to appeal to a younger crowd without turning into a nightclub and losing their older clientele.

Even though he spotted his brothers right away, Arthur made his way to the single-occupant restroom first. Before starting the night, he needed to clear his head. He leaned over the small sink and splashed some cool water on his face in an attempt to reenergize himself. As he dried his face with a rough, brown paper towel, Arthur couldn't help but think about what his wife had said before he disapparated. _You need to sort yourself out first,_ echoed through his head. How could he sort himself out if he didn't know what was wrong? And she couldn't possibly think he could do it on his own if he ever _did_ figure out what the problem was. Right now, it looked like he would have to wait for it to blow over like it did all the other times…Little did he know that it wouldn't just blow over this time. Pulling out his wand, Arthur cast a weak Cheering Charm on himself before meeting his brothers at the bar. He knew what could happen if it was used too much, so the only times he ever used a Cheering Charm was when he couldn't keep up a façade when he needed to.

"It's about time!" Trenton exclaimed as Arthur approached. "We were about to get started without you."

"Oh no," Arthur muttered as he took his place between Trenton and Neil. Three glasses containing several ounces of green liquid sat in front of them on the counter. It had to have been twenty years since Arthur drank absinthe.

"Ohh, yes," Trenton replied with an evil grin. "Cheers, boys!" he exclaimed, clinking his glass on the other two.

"So, Arthur, what's going on with you and Molly?" Neil asked after his first sip. "I'm not stupid. The two of you hardly even looked at each other tonight."

"I'd rather not talk about it," Arthur replied. Why did it seem like his brothers always wanted to be in his business?

Not giving up, Neil guessed, "You two got a divorce recently." As an answer, Arthur showed the forty-four year old the wedding band still on his left hand. "Separated then," he stated next. The way Arthur tensed was answer enough. "Sorry to hear that, mate," he genuinely apologized, patting Arthur on the shoulder. "Can we get three shots of vodka over here?" Neil called to the bartender even though all three of them were still working on their first drink.

Over the next twenty minutes _,_ The Paramount quickly became more lively and crowded. Arthur didn't think anything about it when Trenton disappeared to the bathroom, but then he came back with three beautiful thirty-something year olds.

"I'd like you girls to meet my brothers, Arthur and Neil," Trenton said, gesturing to his younger brothers in turn. "Boys, this is Cindy, Alexa, and Stacy" His whole life, Trenton had been a flirt, but since his wife was killed two years ago, he had become an absolute player.

All three of the women were attractive. They were all about the same size and similar appearance, but they were clearly not sisters. Stacy had mid-length, wavy brown hair. Alexa's hair was a bit longer and as dark as obsidian. Cindy had long, straight blonde hair.

"Hey, handsome," the blonde woman approached Arthur, running her hand down the buttons on his shirt. He couldn't help but notice she was the most gorgeous of the three. Her short, tight red dress hugged all the right places. The fact that the best looking woman chose him over Trenton shocked him, considering Trenton's more muscular form and short beard tended to attract more attention from the ladies. Of course, Arthur didn't look too bad himself; the war had kept him in great shape, and the scars he had accumulated didn't hurt either. Then there was Neil who had nowhere near the muscular build his older brothers had, but was slender and toned which exaggerated the muscles he did have.

Catching his mind wandering, Arthur backed away from the beautiful blonde woman as the band started playing a new song.

"Ooh! I absolutely _love_ this song!" Cindy exclaimed, bouncing up and down.

"Let's dance!" Stacy, the brunette suggested, grabbing Trenton's hand.

"I-I'm married," Arthur stuttered. The alcohol hadn't hit him yet, so he was still of sound mind.

"It's just a dance," Cindy assured.

"Yeah, and I hate to tell you, but most of the time separated couples end up divorced," Neil confessed as he allowed the dark-haired woman to drag him to the dancefloor.

Arthur didn't want to get a divorce and he didn't want to cheat on Molly, but they were right. It was just an innocent dance. Grabbing his beer, he followed Cindy to where his brothers and her friends were already dancing. Then he remembered something important…He hadn't danced to upbeat music like this in decades. However, all he had to do was stand there and move with the beat while Cindy danced around him. Every once in a while, Arthur would glance over at one of his brothers to try and pick up a couple moves and in no time, he was twenty-three again. Whether it was the atmosphere or the alcohol, Arthur wasn't sure, but by the third song, he lost any feelings of guilt he had had and was focused on the slim, young woman in front of him. Good thing too, because he had to catch her with his free arm as she fell backward into him.

"Perhaps, you've had a bit too much to drink," he grinned, lifting her upright.

Gently running her fingers across his jaw, Cindy said," I meant to do that," before winking and sashaying back to the bar.

Mesmerized by this exquisite creature, Arthur followed. It was almost as if she was part Veela.

At a loss for words, Arthur stammered, "That was – You are – Let me buy you a drink. Anything you want," he offered.

She took him up on the offer and the two talked. It wasn't much longer before Trenton, Stacy, Neil, and Alexa joined them and ordered more drinks.

Stacy invited Cindy and Arthur to join the four of them outside to cool off. After they all had received their orders, Trenton snorted at Arthur's firewhisky. Arthur didn't see what the issue was. He wasn't the only one who had stepped up from the disgusting, cheap beer. Arthur raised an eyebrow at his brother's reaction.

"You know what that does to you. Can't remember a thing the next day," Trenton replied in answer. Arthur shrugged before following Neil and the girls out, all with refreshed drinks in hand.

As soon as the six stepped out on the sidewalk, Trenton and Neil each pulled out a pack of cigarettes. When he was twenty, Bilius had gotten Trenton into the bad habit and Neil had always smoked socially or when he was drinking. They both offered one to Stacy and Alexa before Trenton offered one each to Arthur and Cindy. He had always refused, but there was something about tonight that caused Arthur to accept.

After everyone had accepted, Cindy complained that it was actually quite chilly, her friends following suit. As if by instinct, the brothers wrapped an arm around their respective partner's shoulders. After all, they had each been married and had gotten used to this with their ex- wives – or in Arthur's case, wife.

After they all lit up, Arthur unsuccessfully stifling a cough, Trenton pointed out the scars that peeked through the two open upper buttons on his little brother's shirt. "Say, Arthur, how'd you get those scars?"

Glancing down at the discolored marks on his chest, Arthur replied with a bit of an attitude, "I was in the Order of the Phoenix, remember?" He knew what his older brother was doing, and he did _not_ appreciate it. Around people he didn't know well, Arthur was quite self-conscious about his scars. He wasn't one to brag either.

"You're Arthur _Weasley_? _That_ Arthur Weasley?" Cindy inquired, excitedly. "I read about that in _The Daily Prophet_. You received an Order of Merlin, First Class!"

"He nearly died too," Neil put in, obviously catching on to what Trenton was doing.

"That's so brave," the blonde cooed, leaning closer to Arthur.

"Do you know Harry Potter?" Alexa, the dark-haired one, asked.

"His daughter is _dating_ Harry Potter," Trenton answered helpfully. "Harry's like another son to him."

"You don't look old enough to have a daughter that age," Cindy commented.

Before responding, Arthur took a puff from his cigarette. The smoke burned his throat and he resisted the urge to cough this time. "I'm forty-eight."

"No!" Cindy exclaimed, genuinely shocked. "I didn't think you were much older than me."

"And how old are you? If you don't mind me asking, of course," Arthur added hastily.

"Thirty-five," she answered, blowing smoke into the cool night air. "I've always tended to be attracted to older men though, so this shouldn't have surprised me."

This exchange made everyone curious of what each other's age was. Stacy, the brunette with Trenton, was thirty-six. Alexa, the dark-haired woman with Neil, was thirty-five. Neil proudly announced that he was forty-four since he was the youngest of the brothers present. Trenton, however, tried to play it off like he was forty-two, but was caught in the lie by Stacy because he had already told them he was the oldest.

After everyone finished their cigarette – or cigarettes in Trenton and Neil's case – the group went back inside to buy more drinks. Instead of getting more drinks, however, the girls talked the guys into having a contest to see who could take the most shots. Unsurprisingly, Trenton won by a long shot. Arthur came in second, and Neil wasn't too far behind in third.

Not long after the contest, the effects of the liquor began to kick in. They had all been buzzed, but now they were highly intoxicated. It didn't take any effort this time for Cindy to get Arthur onto the dance floor. Arthur couldn't help his mind wandering to what he'd like to do to this breathtaking woman as he watched her move with the music. Several songs later, the band slowed the tempo dow. As the song finished, Cindy leaned in and planted a soft kiss on Arthur's lips. When he didn't stop her, she deepened the kiss, her tongue seeking entrance into his mouth. Instead of jerking away, Arthur pulled her closer to him, running his hand down her side and resting it on her lower back. It was like he had no control of what he was doing. Part of him knew this was wrong, but another part didn't want to stop. When Cindy pulled away, he didn't bother hiding the disappointment on his face.

"Let's see where the others are," Cindy said, pulling him along by the hand.

They found the other four at a booth across the room and joined them. As soon as they sat down, Neil winked at Arthur. They all enjoyed another drink before Alexa said it was too loud to have a decent conversation.

"We can all go back to my place. Nice, big empty house with more booze," Trenton suggested.

Upon checking his watch, Arthur realized it was already two in the morning. Hours had flown by and he hadn't even noticed.

Once they had apparated to Trenton's house, he poured everyone a glass of firewhisky. Arthur and Cindy took the couch while Stacy and Alexa each sat in Trenton and Neil's laps, respectively.

They all talked, getting to know each other better, while they sipped their drinks. Then they all entered their own conversations. At some point while he was talking to her, Cindy ran her hand up Arthur's inner thigh then swung her left leg over his. Arthur felt his pants tighten a little as she did this. Her breath was warm on his ear as she nibbled it. An involuntary moan escaped Arthur. His ears had always been a weak spot. He nuzzled her neck and she tilted her head to give him better access to kiss her soft flesh.

Neither of them noticed Trenton and Stacy and Neil and Alexa slip out of the room to appease their own drunken, sexual desires.

Being the first to remove clothing, Arthur reached behind Cindy and unzipped her red dress. Sliding the smooth fabric down, he allowed his hand to pause on her breast. Not bothering with the buttons on the older man's shirt, Cindy practically ripped it open. At the time, Arthur didn't think anything about it. He could always use magic to repair it later. She slid her hands over his scarred, muscular chest.

Their breaths quickened as their lips met. While she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers, Cindy stood a little to help Arthur remove her dress the rest of the way, not breaking the kiss. Without warning, Arthur picked Cindy up and laid her on the couch beneath him. Trailing kisses down her neck, he made his way to her freed breasts, eliciting a moan as he tugged on one nipple with his teeth and the other with his fingers. As he did this Cindy ran her fingers through his vibrant red hair. When he was satisfied he had done enough in that area, Arthur returned to her lips.

Both parties were eager to satisfy each other as well as themselves. Finally, Cindy released Arthur's bulge from his trousers. It was exquisite. Probably the biggest she had ever seen. She gently stroked it before allowing him to do as he wished. This stranger was the most attentive, skilled partner she had ever had.

For a split second, Arthur thought, _What, in Merlin's name, am I doing? What about Molly?_ as he thrust into this blonde-haired beauty. Then he remembered what Neil had said about separated couples almost always divorcing and how Molly wasn't willing to work things out. His foggy, drunken state of mind made him forget what was more important to him as the young woman beneath him let out a moan.

And that was it. For the rest of the night, man and woman gave into their primal instincts, only thinking of the temporary sexual pleasures and not the inevitable regrets and consequences that would come later.

**oOoOo**

The next morning a sunbeam shone across Arthur's face, waking him up. Head still spinning, he slowly opened his eyes. The large living room and leather furniture disoriented him. Several minutes passed before he realized he was at his brother's house.

After he finally figured out where he was, Arthur focused on what had happened, how he got there, and, more importantly, why he was half naked. Another handful of minutes passed and he was still at a complete loss. Well, he would have to rely on his older brother, who he knew wouldn't be much help, to explain things.

As he sat up on the sofa, his skin unstuck from the leather. Rubbing his head, Arthur looked around for his shirt and belt. After finding his belt on the arm of the couch, he slid it through the belt loops on his trousers and, having noticed it was undone, zipped his fly. The shirt was found on the floor a few feet away. He had to use a repairing charm to fix the buttons, clueless as to how some had popped off. As he put the shirt on, a faint smell of unfamiliar perfume filled his nostrils, then he spotted ruby red lipstick on the collar. All clues pointed to a night of intercourse. But...Molly never wore that shade of lipstick, and why would they do it on his brother's couch? Whatever had happened, happened with another woman.

 _Shite_ , he thought. _Shite, shite, shite._

Then he saw it...

...a note on the coffee table that read _I had a great time_.

"Fuck!" he blurted, crumpling up the paper and throwing it across the room. Having heard his brothers talking, – Wait. Brothers? What was Neil doing here? - Arthur marched into the kitchen.

Neil and Trenton were much like he was, wearing the same clothes from the day before without having buttoned their shirts. Immediately, Neil threw a vial of red Hangover Potion to Arthur.

"Trent, what happened last night?" Arthur asked angrily after downing the potion.

"That's a good question, brother," Trenton stated, giving a small laugh. He was just as prone to blackouts as Arthur was. The difference was, Trenton didn't really care what took place as long as he had a good time.

Chuckling, Neil said, "What would you two do without me? We went to The Paramount and found a few fine birds."

"I figured as much. Tell me I didn't sleep with one of them," Arthur pressed.

"Don't worry. You resisted some of her advances..."

" _And_?"

A broad smile spread across Neil's face. "We all got laid in the end," Neil finished with a victorious grin and high five with Trenton.

"What?!" Arthur bellowed. Of course, his brothers weren't his keepers, but they knew the state his marriage was in. Ultimately, it was his own fault, but he wanted to lay the blame elsewhere. "I can't believe you didn't stop me!"

"We had our own escapades to get to. Besides, you looked like you were enjoying yourself quite a bit. The two of you didn't even make it off the couch," Neil calmly explained.

"Oh! We made it in the advert too!" Trenton broke in excitedly, ignoring his brother's anger and distress, and shoved _The Daily Prophet_ into Arthur's hands.

Right there at the bottom of page nine was an advertisement for The Paramount. A montage of pictures played out in front of him. Then one appeared showing him snogging a fit blonde woman. It was Arthur Weasley. There was no denying it. If anyone still had doubts though, they could be settled by the other two red headed me in the photograph. Most times, when more than two red heads were together, they were Weasleys.

"God dammit!" Arthur threw the newspaper onto the kitchen table. "Why would you think I'd be happy about that?" he seethed. "Do you have a clean shirt I could borrow?"

"S-sorry?" Trenton apologized while summoning another shirt. Whenever they made the adverts in their twenties, Arthur was always just as excited as he and Bilius. But, Arthur never dared to even look at another woman. Molly was always his focus. Trenton threw the shirt to his brother, "Here."

"Arthur…where are you going?" Neil asked apprehensively as Arthur changed shirts.

"I have to tell Molly," he mumbled.

"Woah! You tell her and this will definitely end your marriage. There'll be no coming back from this," Neil warned.

"You should know! That's what caused the downfall of yours!" Arthur screamed at Neil. "Yet neither of you thought about that last night! Look, I can't keep this from her," he stated more calmly as he started to leave, but he turned around and added, "If I'm not back in an hour, she's killed me."

**oOoOo**

At the Burrow, Conner was helping Molly fix lunch. This was the first time he had been back to the Burrow since Arthur flew off the handle. Over the past couple weeks, he and Molly would meet up somewhere to talk.

The house was empty except for those two. During the week, Charlie would go to work at Hogwarts with Hagrid, but the weekends he spent looking for a house. He preferred to have a small house on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, and it had been difficult finding something he liked. As for Ron and Hermione, Molly had talked them into going on a lunch date. She had nothing to hide, but Molly would rather have complete privacy when she talked to Conner. Some subjects she did not want her kids hearing; plus, Ron and Charlie were obviously still against her giving their father yet another chance.

Ever since Arthur and the other Weasley children had moved out, the Burrow had been too quiet. It was unnatural. Even when the kids had grown and gone off to Hogwarts, Molly couldn't wait for them to come home. She never knew how to cook for just two people, so she and Arthur would be stuck with leftovers for days. Whenever she and Arthur made up, so would the kids and things would get back to normal. The sooner things returned to normal, the sooner she would be happy again.

When they had finished making the mini pork pies, Conner took a seat at the table while Molly put them in the oven. That day's issue of _The Daily Prophet_ lay on the worn wooden surface. As Molly put the kettle on, Conner found himself scanning over the headlines and pictures.

"I don't know why Charlie keeps buying those. They're still complete rubbish," Molly commented, taking a seat.

Shrugging, Conner continued looking over the paper and replied, "It is interesting though. And they've gotten better about inaccuracies."

Since he wasn't reading the stories unless the headline sounded interesting, it wasn't too long before Conner reached the advertisements. Of course, there was one for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and one for Zonko's Joke Shop competing for the middle of the page. Just as he was about to show Molly the humorous animation, something below that caught his attention. It was an advertisement for a bar that he had heard of but had never been to. The pictures cycled back through and Conner got a good look at the one that caught his eye. Even though he had only seen Molly's husband once, there was no mistaking this was Arthur Weasley kissing another woman. However, just to make sure, he glanced at one of the family pictures on the wall. Yep, that was Arthur Weasley alright.

Schooling his features, Conner turned the page. Unless Molly brought it up, he would not get involved with this aspect of their relationship. Perhaps, she already saw it. Or maybe Charlie saw it and was going to tell her later. From what Molly had told him during their conversations, Arthur had always been faithful and never given another woman a second glance. It seemed that way in the past several weeks as well. The only thing Conner could figure was that Molly had been wrong, there had been some sort of misunderstanding between the couple recently, or Arthur didn't care anymore.

Folding the paper back up, Conner set it on the table and asked, "How did last night go?" When they had gone to lunch Friday, Molly had admitted how nervous she was about seeing Arthur at the engagement party.

"It could have gone better," she answered. She summarized everything that had happened the previous night: how Arthur seemed like he wanted to work things out as well, how he didn't drink any alcohol at the party but had taken to carrying a flask, what had happened with George and Muriel and the argument that ensued, how Arthur went to a bar with his brothers afterward, and how he rejected her kiss. Mixed messages were all she received from her husband nowadays.

After Conner removed the whistling kettle from the stove, he poured both of them a cup. Starting with what seemed like the easiest first, he suggested that Molly at least let Ginny stay the remainder of the three weeks then it could be revisited, but he had agreed that she overreacted after the Canary Cream incident.

Next, Conner addressed the bar issue. Arthur didn't go alone, so that was a plus. Perhaps, he was just going to catch up with his brothers. Again, Molly didn't say anything about infidelity, so Conner didn't mention what he saw in the newspaper.

When he first heard of the situation Molly found herself in, Conner thought he could help by telling Arthur how he had screwed up his own marriage. But now, there was no way to talk to him without conflict. Even though Molly and the kids explained what Conner was doing at the Burrow the first time, Arthur would be furioud if he knew that Molly was still talking to this man. All Conner could do was help this caring, beautiful woman the best he could. From what Conner saw in the advert, Arthur forgot how great of a woman he had.

"Molly...I'm sorry. I don't know what to tell you. It sounds like Arthur really wants to work things out, but alcohol does some strange things to a man. Keep doing what you're doing, but it is ultimately up to him to beat this," Conner stated.

Molly nodded. "Ok. Thank you. I think I would end up going insane if you hadn't been giving me some advice." Silence filled the house while she fiddled with her tea cup. Looking up at Conner, she said, "You don't have to keep doing this, you know. There isn't really anything you can do."

"It's fine, Molly. I actually quite enjoy when we get together." This statement caused a slight blush to creep up Molly's cheeks.

About that time, the timer went off for the mini pork pies. Neither had realized they had been talking for nearly an hour. Time always flew by when they were together.

They had just sat down to lunch when there was a knock at the door. Wondering who that could possibly be, Molly went to the front door. It couldn't be Arthur, not with how he left the previous night. Besides, he said he wouldn't come around unless she asked him to. But when she opened the door, there stood her husband.

"Arthur," she breathed. She was glad to see him, but honestly he looked like hell. A five o'clock shadow had appeared on his face and his clothes and hair were disheveled. She didn't even think that was his shirt he was wearing.

Every day she prayed he would show up, ready to fix things. Every day went without her prayer answered. Today would be different, she thought.

"Molly...I...I need to tell you something." He paused. This was the most difficult thing he had to do in his entire life. He had been unfaithful and he had no clue how to break it to her, and that broke him. All he knew was that he didn't have a choice.

Before he could continue, Molly reached out and grabbed his hand. "Wait. Arthur, I just want you to know how happy I am that you've decided to come back. It's been awful without you here and I'm ready for things to get back to normal."

God, she had no idea what was coming. It was obvious she hadn't seen the picture. Arthur's heart broke a little when he realized this. After he told her, he knew she would want nothing more to do with him.

"Um - No. I mean, I do want that, but that's not why I'm here." He kissed the back of her hand. "Molly, I do love you, but -"

A head peaked through the swinging door to the kitchen. "Molly, who is it? The food's getting cold - Oh, I'm sorry," Conner said as he realized who it was and that he once again was interrupting an important moment.

It was too late. Arthur already saw who it was. His jealousy came back in full force. Letting go of his wife's hand, he demanded, "What is he doing here? Again. In my fucking house!" A vein quivered near his temple. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. You can trick the kids, but I'm not falling for it again! I can't believe this! After everything you said about working things out! You know what? I _don't_ love you! Not anymore. Not after this. Apparently, you don't love me either. Otherwise, he wouldn't be here! You know what, stay out of my life." He stormed off to apparate back to Trenton's, leaving a distraught Molly in his wake.

His brothers were still in the kitchen, but Arthur grabbed the bottle of vodka that was sitting out on the counter and chugged some straight.

How could she, after everything she said? Had she been cheating on him their whole marriage and he didn't know it? During the war, especially, she had many late nights that another man could be over. Why should he feel guilty about being unfaithful when it clearly didn't bother her?

The other two stood abruptly as they watched their brother. He hadn't been gone long enough to have told Molly, but something had to have happened. Neither had ever seen him this angry in their entire lives.

"Arthur, with happened?" Trenton questioned.

Taking another pull from the bottle, Arthur replied, "She was with another man again."

Finding it hard to believe, Neil asked, "Is that why you're separated?"

"I don't even know anymore…I just know that I don't regret last night."

Arthur changed back into his shirt and found his flask on the coffee table before going to the front door, his brother's following close behind.

"Where are you going?" Trenton asked worriedly.

"Nowhere."

That was the last they saw of their brother.


	23. Bill's Rant

Molly stood, completely and utterly shocked, as she watched her husband disapparate. Unlike every other time he left or tried to leave, she couldn't bring herself to try and stop him. The exact opposite had happened that she had hoped would, and his words stung, worse than anything else he had ever said to her. Apparently, there was no trust left in their relationship; she had been finding it harder and harder to trust him, and clearly, Arthur didn't trust her anymore.

She leaned on the door after gently shutting it. A flood of emotions washed over her. Molly wasn't sure how she should feel: disappointed because they hadn't made up like she hoped, angry because Arthur immediately assumed the worst again, sad and upset because he told her he didn't love her anymore, or happy and relieved because the monster who used to be her husband was gone.

Unable to stand any longer, she slid down to the floor, tears overcoming her. Everything since the end of the war had her emotionally drained. Her son was dead. Two of her kids didn't want anything to do with her. And her husband, the man she loved, had turned her life into this living hell.

The next thing she realized, she was crying into a man's shoulder. In that moment, she didn't know who it could be. Could Charlie or Ron have gotten back already? Could Bill have stopped by to visit? Did Arthur rethink what he had said and come back? Her mind skipped right over the Irishman she had left in the kitchen.

Finally, she had let all her emotions out. Pulling back from whoever was holding her, she wiped at her tear-stained cheeks while the man smoothed her hair. When she saw who the mystery person was, she began apologizing profusely. Of course, she had been telling Conner all of her feelings over the past couple weeks, but there had only been one other time she completely broke down. Conner told her there was no reason for her to apologize and that he was glad he could be there for her. Molly couldn't help wondering why this man who she barely knew wanted to help her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her son's cheerful exclamation, "Mum, great news!" as he entered through the back door. Upon seeing his mother on the floor, Charlie's demeanor immediately changed and he rushed to her side, ignoring the other man in the room. "Mum, what's wrong? What happened?" he asked, concern written all over his face as he helped his mother up.

Sniffing, Molly patted her son's cheek, thankful for having such a caring child. "You needn't worry about it," she answered, knowing it would only upset Charlie. "You're in a much better mood than when you left this morning."

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows. "Mum, the state you're in only proves that I need to worry about it."

Molly took a seat on the couch, closely followed by Charlie, before she was ready to answer. Just as she was about to start, the fireplace roared in the kitchen and Bill and Fleur came into the sitting room. They had been coming over on Sundays to see how everything was. Unsurprisingly, Bill's reaction was much like his brother's. Her two oldest boys took a seat on either side of her while Conner and Fleur made themselves scarce, not wanting to intrude.

"Mum?" Bill prompted.

"Your father came by," she started quietly before Charlie interrupted.

"What was that good-for-nothing - !"

Bill cut him off with a stern glare and a warning, "Charlie."

"He was going to tell me something," Molly continued, "but then he saw Conner…" She let out a shaky breath.

As she watched her sons anxiously, she could tell Charlie was taking this information the way she expected, but Bill was unreadable. Finally, Bill said, "Do you want me to talk to him? I was planning on seeing him tonight anyway because there is something else I need to talk to him about as well."

Molly merely nodded. She was tired of fighting this never-ending battle, but she wasn't ready to quit just yet.

"Mum," Charlie said as he stood, "are you going to be okay for a few minutes?"

"I think so. I need to check on Conner anyway. And say hi to Fleur."

Charlie nodded. "Bill, can I see you in the garden?"

Once they were safely out of earshot, Charlie turned to his older brother. He figured Bill knew about the picture, but he needed to talk to him about it anyway. He wasn't going to confront their father about it, and he sure as hell wasn't going to break the news to their mum.

"Did you see the paper today?" he asked.

Bill adopted a grim expression and nodded. "That's what I was gonna talk to him about."

"Well, find out what he was thinking," Charlie said as he began to pace angrily. "You know, when I thought he could sink no lower, he goes and does something like this."

Putting out a hand to stop his brother, Bill became extremely serious. "Look, I am furious about it too, but you need to act natural so Mum doesn't find out – Wait, she doesn't know, does she?"

Charlie shook his head.

"And what about Ron?"

The former dragon trainer shook his head again.

"Good. Get rid of that newspaper and don't say anything. I'm sure that's what Dad was going to tell Mum, and if I have anything to do with it, that is the _only_ way she is going to find out."

Once they reentered the house, they found their mum, Conner, and Fleur back in the kitchen. Conner shook Charlie and Bill's hands in turn, reintroducing himself to Charlie and introducing himself to Bill. Out of all eight remaining Weasleys, he had only met Molly and Charlie, but had no doubt heard about all of them.

When everyone took a seat, Molly recalled Charlie had something to say earlier. "Oh, Charlie dear, what was your great news?"

"Oh, yeah," Charlie remembered, scratching his head. Recently, he hadn't felt guilty about moving out and leaving his mum more alone than she already was, but now he was second guessing himself. He watched his mother closely as he told her he had found a house and he would be moving into it at the end of the month. If she was upset, she didn't show it. In fact, she seemed overjoyed.

Charlie animatedly described the house until Ron and Hermione came in a little while later.

Upon seeing the stranger at the table, Ron shook his hand. "Are you Conner?" he asked.

"I am."

"Ron. And this is Hermione. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Conner reciprocated, shaking Hermione's hand next.

Ron wanted to say how much he liked him more than his father already, but refrained, knowing it would only upset his mum. Instead, Ron kissed her on the cheek and greeted his brothers and sister-in-law before taking a seat by Hermione.

After Charlie finished and Bill and Fleur gave an overview of their week, Hermione nudged Ron. The couple had news of their own, but now Ron felt bad that he would be leaving just before Charlie moved out. He knew how much this meant to his girlfriend and right now she needed him more than his mother did. Molly had his other brothers to help out after all.

Clearing his throat, Ron gained the attention of the room. "Er – Hermione and I are going to Australia," he blurted. He had never been good at breaking news gently. "She wants to find her parents before school starts back." Staring at his mother, he waited for her disapproval…but it never came.

"I think that is very sweet of you, Ron, but we don't have the money," she said regretfully, patting his hand.

"I know…Harry has lent us the money," Ron explained. "And we'll be leaving later this week."

Molly's face fell. Of course, she wasn't against her son helping Hermione find her parents, but did they have to leave so soon? And there was no telling how long they would be gone. Then Charlie would be moving out in a matter of weeks. Soon, she would be left all alone. Not a day in her life, had she been _completely_ alone.

"Mum?" Ron's concerned voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "You're okay with me doing this, aren't you?"

She forced a smile and cheerful tone. "Of course, I am. Hermione may be the brightest witch of her age, but she can't go all by herself."

"You and Harry made up then?" Bill asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah. I realized I can't make him choose between me and Ginny. He can't voice his true opinion either, you know?"

Sensing the tension this comment created, Fleur began asking Conner about what he did for a living. This lightened the mood tremendously because it turned out he worked at the Ministry in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He worked out in the field for the most part, which explained his physique and caused an almost-instant bond between him and Charlie. However, he was bombarded with questions about where he stood on house elves and werewolves from Hermione. Even though his views on werewolves matched Hermione's, his opinion on house elves did not.

Despite the earlier events, the rest of the afternoon went by pleasantly. Everyone got to know Conner and Conner learned a lot about them. No one wanted the day to end they were having such a good time.

**oOoOo**

Days went by and no one saw or heard from Arthur. Despite the various attempts to speak with his father, it was Wednesday before Bill finally contacted him.

After knocking on his dad's door for what seemed like the tenth time in three days, his dad came to the door with a half empty bottle in his hand. "Are you happy now?" Arthur grumbled. "I've opened the door, so you can stop the incessant knocking. I thought you'd have stopped after the first day."

Bill put his foot out to stop the door from closing and followed his dad inside. "You mean you've been here the whole time?" he asked incredulously.

"Not entirely." Turning to face his oldest son, Arthur said, "Let's skip the pleasantries. Cut to the chase, so you can leave. You're here to defend that slut, aren't you?"

"That's alright. I don't have anything pleasant to say to you anyway. Dad, Mum hasn't been cheating on you. She would _never_ do that," Bill tried explaining to an already inebriated Arthur, ignoring the low jab at his mum. It was only five-fifteen on a Wednesday and he knew Arthur never got off before five. According to Percy though, he hadn't shown up for work all week.

"How naive are you? How stupid do you think I am?" Arthur questioned, taking another pull from the bottle.

"Dad, you know she would never do something like that!" Bill hollered. "Any excuse for you to shut people out and get plastered! Why don't you take a Sober Up potion and we can discuss this civilly."

"No, I'm perfectly capable of having a conversation," Arthur slurred.

Not believing this one bit, Bill continued, "She's told him everything that has happened between you two. All she wants is to understand, so things can go back to how they were."

"Fine, suppose she is telling the truth. I still don't appreciate her telling a complete stranger about my personal life."

"She doesn't know what else to do! None of us do!" Bill paused then calmly stated, "We just want you back."

"Cheating isn't going to bring me back!" Arthur shot.

" _She hasn't cheated on you_!" Bill repeated. "But you sure do have some explaining to do. Charlie and I saw the picture in _The Daily Prophet_. Tell me what that's about!"

Clenching his jaw, Arthur glared at Bill. "That was nothing."

"Nothing? Nothing! I saw you dancing with another woman. I saw you _kissing_ another fucking woman! Maybe you automatically think Mum is cheating on you because you are cheating on her. I'm not making any assumptions right now. I'm going to let you explain yourself because this is not something to be taken lightly or misinterpreted."

"You're mistaken –"

"No, I'm not. I know what my own father looks like even if his face is hidden because it's too busy sucking someone else's. And don't say she's just a friend, because she isn't. I've never seen her. I've met your work colleagues. She wasn't in the Order. I don't know who she is. The picture I saw _clearly_ showed me that she is _not_ just a friend. So I would like for you to explain yourself _now_ ," Bill ordered.

"Bill, this has nothing to do with me! This has everything to do with that whore! She is cheating on me. I've been to the Burrow twice and both of those times that man was in the house, alone with her. How am I supposed to believe that she isn't cheating on me? How am I supposed to believe the story that she told me? I'm not falling for it a second time!"

"Yeah, well maybe you immediately jump to that conclusion because that is exactly what you're doing to her!" Bill shouted an inch from his father's face, jamming a finger into his chest.

Arthur was struck dumb. Bill took after him. He had always been level-headed and had a slow-burning fuse. He supposed this was the lycanthropic side of his son showing through.

Calming himself, Bill took a few paces before continuing. "Well, are you going to tell her or should I?"

"I _was_ going to tell her, but that's when I found that bastard there."

"That's it. I'm not talking to you when you're like this," he said while reaching into his pocket and bringing out a Sober Up potion. With how frequently Arthur was drunk nowadays, almost all of the Weasley kids would have one on hand. There was no telling what state their father would be in even if he had plans. "Besides, Harry will be here in forty minutes."

Damn, that was tonight? Arthur had lost track of what day it was, seeing as he had only left the flat for food and liquor when he deemed it necessary. "It's nothing that can't wait a day," Arthur replied, pushing the vial back towards Bill.

"You can't keep going back on your commitments. George gave him the night off. Harry already talked Mum 'round to it at their dinner, but your answer mean more to him." Bill had been at the Burrow when Harry brought Molly home from their dinner, so he knew the reason for the occasion. This didn't only affect the raven-haired boy, but the youngest Weasley as well. "Take the potion, shower, shave, and get dressed. I'll go with you to talk to Mum afterward."

In response, Arthur put the bottle to his lips again. Before any liquid reached his tongue, it was snatched from his hand and slammed on the cluttered coffee table which contained take away boxes and two empty bottles, Bill noticed. His dad hadn't been living here a week and he had gone through at least two and a half fifths of firewhisky.

"Dad, this has to stop. You have responsibilities as a husband and as a father. You have shirked those responsibilities for your own selfish reasons. It is clear that you love yourself and booze more than your family. Otherwise, you'd be at home, happy with Mum. The past three days, you haven't been at work. No one has seen or heard from you. You can't keep disappearing like that! There are still people that care about you. And you can't afford to lose your job. Even though you don't live there anymore, Mum still depends on you." Bill shoved the purple potion into Arthur's hands, giving his dad a stern look that made it impossible to refuse this time.

"I don't know what's happened. I don't know what is going on with you. You won't talk to anyone about it. You won't face up to these issues yourself. The way you have been acting is completely inexcusable. I don't know why you are doing any of these things. I don't know why you have been the polar opposite of yourself! You need to figure it out, alright? Because Charlie and Ron stopped giving a shit about you the day at the shed. I've almost given up on you. I'm giving you one more chance before I finally just stop caring. I'm not going to turn my back on you like Charlie and Ron have, but I'll be done. And I don't know what Percy, George, and Ginny think they could do to help you because you don't want anyone's help. You don't even want to help your-fucking-self!" Bill paused and took a deep breath while running a hand down his face. He had only meant to address the issue of the woman, but he couldn't stop himself. This was his chance to get everything off his chest. He had been thinking these things for weeks and had only voiced a few of his concerns to Fleur. Now, he could tell his father what he thought, and, hopefully, knock some sense into him.

"Ginny is Daddy's little girl. She's always been your little girl. She looks up to you – We all look up to you, but her moreso than the rest of us because she is your daughter and daughters have a different relationship with their fathers than sons do. So I don't think she's ever going to give up on you. I know she is never going to turn her back on you, but she needs to. Otherwise you're just going to break her heart over, and over, and over again, just like you did with Mum. And - and George, he lost his brother – his twin – his best friend. H-He – _None_ of us needed to lose any more siblings or parents but you have ripped this family down the middle, have torn it to shreds."

The potion not having kicked in yet, Arthur made to protest. He had barely gotten a word in edgewise since Bill arrived. He had had enough of his son's rant. He didn't have to stand here and take this.

Bill held up a hand to stop Arthur from interrupting. " _That_ _is all on you_. That is all because of your actions and things that you have said." He began pacing again, the lack of furniture making it easy to do so. "I don't know why George sided with you, but he has lost two more brothers and has turned his back on his mother. He could've remained neutral like me and Percy, but he sided with you and that is a horrible mistake he has made because he isn't only suffering the loss of Fred, but of Charlie, Ron, and Mum. He doesn't show it. He doesn't talk about it. But I know, as his older brother, that he is torn up about what has happened. He wasn't ready to move out of the Burrow. He moved back to his flat because of all this shit that you've put your family through. He didn't want to stay there with two brothers who disowned him. I'm just glad that Mum finally got talked around to letting Ginny and Harry move in with him. Otherwise, I don't even want to think of what could've happened, or what could happen.

"And then there's Percy. Percy finally made amends with his family. He wanted to come back to a family that was whole – or as whole as it could be." Halting, he faced his father again. "That lasted all of what? A week? Two? At most. And then that all fell apart. Ron and Charlie didn't want anything to do with him. You saw they didn't show up to his engagement party. He says that he didn't care if they came or not – that he preferred they didn't. But he wanted them there. He told me that he had been waiting to propose and get married until he made up with his family. He has tried to help you. He let you live with him for a week. He would've let you live with him for as long as you needed to. Then he laid down that ultimatum; quit drinking or leave. You didn't give him the chance to enact that rule. You went out that afternoon and found somewhere else to live. He wouldn't have enforced that rule because he did not want to lose his father again. Percy's not going to give up on you.' At a loss for words, Bill let out a deep breath. "I don't know what else to say. I can't – I can't say anything else, because you would have listened a long time ago. This has been going on for two months now. And you don't even care, so why should any of us?"

Arthur scratched at his beard while comprehending everything Bill had said. He knew how he had ruined everything, but he didn't know why any of his kids were sticking by him. In his opinion, none of them should even care; hell, he didn't even care about himself anymore. What he wanted was to be left alone, so he could try to figure things out on his own. He didn't want his family anywhere near him until that was taken care of. As much as he would like to, he couldn't control what any of his kids did. He would much rather Bill, Percy, George, and Ginny turn their backs on him like Ron and Charlie had. If they did that, then he would be left to drink himself to death, because he didn't want to live with himself anymore, with what he had done, with what had happened throughout the course of the war, with how he felt nearly every day for the past few months, but he couldn't do that if his kids didn't leave him alone. Arthur knew that he didn't deserve help or for anyone to stick by him. Having sobered up, Arthur knew better than to voice what he was thinking, so all he said was, "None of you should. I don't deserve help."

Realizing that his father wasn't going to say anything else, Bill continued, "You know, I agree with you, alright? I don't know what my brothers and sister are thinking, but they need to stay out of it. You are going to hurt them - maybe not physically, but emotionally, mentally. You know, Mum – Mum is – I don't know how far away she is, how much longer you have until she gives up on you, before she turns her back on you. But she loves you with all of her heart, even after everything that has happened. After everything you've done. And, honestly, I don't know how she still loves you or why she is still trying. I don't know what you and Mum talked about at Percy's engagement party. That's between you and her, but she isn't ready to give up on you yet. She doesn't want to lose the one thing she loves above all others. So, this is what's going to happen. Harry will be here in a few minutes, so you are going to get ready. You aren't going to drink anything else tonight because you are not going to ruin this for him. I'll wait until he gets here and I'll be here when you get back to go talk to Mum."

Being of sound mind, Arthur agreed. He didn't like being bossed around, especially by his son, but he allowed it this one time. This was apparently a major deal and he wasn't going to be the one to mess it up like he had everything else. He had just finished getting ready when Harry knocked on the door.

**oOoOo**

Harry had made reservations at a fancy muggle restaurant in London. He had chosen a muggle establishment to avoid unwanted attention from the press and fans. Arthur noticed it didn't look much different from a wizarding establishment.

Dinner went by with friendly conversation and Harry hadn't revealed the reason for the occasion. The waiter brought out their desert when Arthur finally brought up the subject. "So, Harry, to what do I owe this honor?"

"Oh! Umm…" Harry hesitated, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Apparently this caught the boy by surprise. Perhaps, he had temporarily forgotten why he had planned this dinner. "I-I would like…" he trailed off and suddenly became extremely interested in his fork.

"Harry? What is it?" Arthur gently prompted, giving his full attention to the young man in front of him.

Emerald green eyes met light blue as he clearly plucked up all the courage he had. "Mr. Weasley, I'd like your blessing."

His blessing? Arthur wasn't sure what blessing Harry wanted. Bill said Harry had talked Molly around to it, – whatever _it_ was - and whenever someone asked his girlfriend's parents for a blessing, it was – No. It couldn't be. "Ginny?" he whispered, eyebrows furrowed.

Harry nodded. "I want to ask Ginny to marry me. And I would like your permission."

Before giving an answer, Arthur voiced his concerns. "I don't think that's a good idea, Harry. You know I see you as a son and I am overjoyed that you and Ginny are dating, but you are both too young and haven't been dating very long. Ginny still has a year left at school. Do you even have a clue what you want to do as a career? Unless you're happy at the joke shop? I'm sorry, Harry, but my answer is no; however, I will let you try to convince me otherwise," he finished, leaning back in his chair, waiting for Harry to prove him wrong. There was no doubt in his mind that his daughter's boyfriend had thought this through, but he wanted to hear the boy's plans.

Clearing his throat, Harry sat up straighter. He had prepared for this and since he already talked to Mrs. Weasley, he had an idea of other questions Mr. Weasley might ask. "Actually, Ginny and I have dated longer than you think."

"Oh?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes sir. We dated during her fifth year, and I only broke up with her to keep her safe while Ron, Hermione, and I were out hunting Voldemort. If they knew she was my girlfriend, I'm sure they'd have gone after her first. Not a day went by that I didn't think about her," Harry admitted.

This revelation made the Weasley patriarch both disappointed and thankful. Disappointed because his little girl hadn't told him about that milestone in her life, and thankful that Harry cared about her so much he didn't want her getting hurt. There was more to this boy than he originally thought. "I appreciate that, Harry. I really do.."

"Of course, Mr. Weasley. I didn't want any of you getting hurt. You're like family to me. But, hear me out. Ginny and I are both mature for our age. We both played major roles in the war, so there wasn't much choice but to grow up."

Arthur had to admit that all of his kids had grown up tremendously, more than they should have over the past two years alone,. Even his prankster twins matured more than he thought they ever would. It was truly heartbreaking how so many kids lost their carefree childhoods so quickly. That's what war does though – ends childhoods, destroys families, causes more funerals than necessary – and all for nothing really.

"As for the career," Harry continued, "Ron and I will be going to auror training when he gets back from Australia."

Sitting up, Arthur stopped him there. "Australia?" he questioned. Even if he wasn't on speaking terms with two of his children, someone would have told him that his youngest was travelling halfway across the world. For a moment, he wondered if Molly knew. Surely, she wouldn't have approved.

Harry began fidgeting again. He knew what names to avoid around which Weasleys and he normally did good about it, but this time it slipped. The dinner had gone well thus far and now he thought he blew it. "Yes sir," he said timidly. "He and Hermione are leaving Friday. They've gone to find her parents."

It was a minute before Arthur responded. "Ok then." This was not the time or place to discuss this. Later, he would ask Bill if anyone planned on informing him of Ron's journey. Going back to the task at hand, he prompted, "So, you are going to be an auror. That is a dangerous job. Is Ginny okay with that?"

"She is. We have actually talked extensively about what we want out of life. There aren't any major differences. And we will wait to get married until after she's graduated," he ensured, having had that as a question from Mrs. Weasley. "Mr. Weasley, please, can I ask your daughter to marry me?"

Hearing all of this impressed Arthur. Most young couples don't think things all the way through. Hell, he and Molly just up and eloped one day. Harry had changed his mind several minutes ago and this was the icing on the cake. He fixed Harry with a stern look nonetheless, knowing he would intimidate him despite the years they knew each other. "Don't hurt her," he warned. "And I don't want her busy planning a wedding while she is supposed to be studying. I still think you are moving too fast, but…" Now Arthur broke into a grin. "You have my blessing."

Relieved, Harry leaned back in his chair. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley. I promise I won't hurt her." As he dug into his desert, he couldn't help but think that Mr. Weasley should listen to what had just come out of his own mouth. Honestly, Harry hadn't taken a side between the Weasley parents, but he wished they would work it out. After all, this was the only family he had.

The two spent the next hour chatting and talking more about Harry's imminent proposal. This dinner served as a welcome distraction from reality for Arthur.


	24. Conner's Warning

The dinner went so well it was rather late when Arthur returned to his flat, but Bill was waiting for him all the same. After a reminder from Bill that he would tell Molly about her husband's infidelity if he didn't, Arthur went without a fight.

When they arrived at the Burrow, it was clear Molly had been expecting them, but Arthur was not expecting Conner to be there as well. Arthur was unsure what was going on, but he assumed Molly wanted him to apologize not only to her, but Conner as well. Or perhaps this was another attempt at getting him to open up. In order to keep everyone happy, Arthur waited for someone else to speak first.

Sure enough, Molly started, going off into an explanation about why she had been spending so much time with Conner. There were no greetings or pleasantries or apologies from Molly or the Irishman. The more Molly spoke, the less Arthur wanted to hear. He had already gotten a heads up from Bill about Molly divulging all their personal problems to the stranger, but it sounded like they met up two or three times a week to not only talk about his and Molly's marital problems and things that should stay between spouses, but their kids and the most random, trivial things.

His wife and this stranger had become _friends_!And _close_ friends at that.

When Molly finished speaking, Conner held out his hand as he introduced himself, but Arthur was not interested in meeting the man his wife spent more and more time with. Instead, Arthur crossed his arms and stood at his full height, still not as tall as the other man.

"Stay away from my wife," Arthur demanded, determined to put a stop to whatever this friendship was bound to turn into. "That means no owls, no bumping into her anywhere, no meeting for tea or lunch, and especially no coming to _my_ house. No contact in any way. Do I make myself clear?"

"Arthur, I have no ulterior motives. I - " Conner began, showing no signs of intimidation.

"- It is a yes or no question," Arthur interrupted. "Keep away from my wife, understand?"

"All I'm trying to do is help this kind, caring woman who you treat like shit. You need -"

" _Arthur_!" Molly shrieked.

Arthur's fist connected with Conner's jaw before he could finish his sentence. He got a couple more blows in before the stronger, taller man caught his wrists in a tight grip, but not without getting a broken nose himself. Struggling, Arthur failed to break free. He couldn't help himself. This man had no right to talk about him or his wife. He was an outsider and did not know what was going on with this family. Seriously, who did this guy think he was? What was his game? No one would do what he had without wanting something in return.

"Dad, don't make me stun you," Bill warned, exasperated, lazily pulling out his wand. Of course something like this was bound to happen.

Arthur stopped struggling, but Conner didn't let go and continued from where he was cut off. "You need to stop this, Arthur. Otherwise, you will destroy your marriage to a woman who you still obviously love even though you haven't been showing it. Stop this now or you will regret it," he warned, referring to his own past experience. Conner let go of his wrists. "Trust me."

Molly asked the Irishman if he was alright and healed the cut on his cheek while apologizing for her husband's behavior before walking him out. It seemed like none of this affected Conner though. It was strange. What kind of person was content and held no ill will after being attacked like that?

The way Conner reacted and how his wife seemed to fawn over this stranger only increased Arthur's suspicions. Completely ignoring him and his broken nose, she immediately went over to Conner. Never in their lives had Molly preferred another man over Arthur unless it was one of their kids. Feeling like yesterday's trash would have been ten times better than how Arthur felt right now.

"Do you still believe them over me?" Arthur asked Bill as his son fixed his nose.

Bill huffed and ignored his father's surprisingly valid question. "Your nose is fixed, but it'll be sore for a while. When Mum gets back in here, you are going to tell her what you did."

"What about what she's done?

"That's not why we are here." Bill had only seen his mum with Conner once and while they got along really well, he didn't suspect anything, but seeing her go to another man instead of his dad who was injured worse made him question what was actually going on.

Molly approached Arthur when she came back in a few minutes later. A resounding slap rang throughout the kitchen as Molly's hand struck his cheek forcefully enough to turn his head. "Arthur, that man has done nothing to you or this family. Attacking him like that is absolutely uncalled for," she chastised.

Did she just slap him? Never, in his life, did he imagine she would _ever_ do something like that. Glaring daggers, Arthur rubbed his cheek as he turned back to his wife. He plastered a fake smile across his face and said, "For everyone's sake, _never_ do that again."

Hands on her hips and fire burning in her eyes, Molly replied, "You don't scare me, Arthur Weasley."

"I'm not trying to scare you. I don't want to scare you. I'm warning you."

"Fine. If we are playing that game, never lay another finger on me again, never hit Conner again."

That wasn't fair. Arthur had already apologized countless times for the way he treated her and she knew how much he hated himself for hurting her. For now, he would push that to the back of his mind. That was another conversation for another time. Right now, there were more important issues to deal with.

Letting out a deep breath, Arthur flatly stated, "Molly, you know nothing about him."

"Yes, I do," she countered.

"No, you don't. He could've been one of Voldemort's followers. Not necessarily a Death Eater, but one of his supporters -"

"- His son was an auror," she defended, voice rising. "And he is a muggle-born. He was in hiding just like half of Wizarding Britain."

"Everything he told you could be a lie! Even though the war is over, there is no telling who you can trust. There are still loads of dark wizards loose, and you brought him into this house. He knows where we live. He can pass through the wards without having one of us accompanying him," Arthur tried to explain. He thought Molly would understand this better than anyone else. Clearly, she wasn't as cautious as he thought. Then again, Molly never was one for the security questions after Voldemort's second rise to power.

"You are just jealous, Arthur," Molly accused, pointing a finger at him, "for no reason."

"Okay." Arthur threw his hands out in admission. "I am jealous. I have every right to be. This is a man I have never met and three times now, you've been alone with him. But that is not the point I'm trying to make right now. He could be dangerous."

"Arthur, you are making unfounded accusations because you clearly don't trust me. You can go now." Molly gestured to the door behind him.

Taking this opportunity, Arthur turned to leave, but Bill grasped his upper arm to stop him.

"Dad has something to tell you first," Bill prompted, shooting his father a sideways glance.

Reluctantly, Arthur faced his wife and begrudgingly apologized for accusing her of infidelity again.

"How could you think I would do that to you?" Molly asked.

"I know. I overreacted. It's just...recently, my mind immediately goes to the worst case scenario. I can't help it," he explained.

"So, uh, Dad, why were you here Sunday?" Bill interceded. The quicker his father got to the point, the quicker this would be over.

Molly cocked an eyebrow at her husband; the same question had been on her mind for days now. He had shown up out of nowhere, looking like hell, not wearing his own clothes and didn't even give a reason for his being there.

"I came here as soon as Neil told me what happened, but then Conner was here...I thought you had done to me what I did to you and I couldn't deal with that. But because of that, I know how you are about to feel."

"And what _did_ happen?" Molly questioned, already catching on to what her husband was about to say but hoping she was mistaken.

Arthur paled. It was time. There was no more procrastinating. He didn't have a choice. Molly would find out one way or another, and he'd rather her find out from him now lest it damage their relationship any more.

Arthur swallowed hard. This would hurt him as much as it hurt her. "I-I lost my head Saturday night. I still can't remember anything after Percy's party, but…I think I slept with another woman. I am so, _so_ sorry."

All color drained from Molly's face and she braced herself on the counter. How could he do this to her? He even knew how it felt, to think the one person you loved above all others had been unfaithful. Had she pushed him away? Was she the reason for his infidelity? Molly wanted all these questions answered, but one question prevailed above all others.

"Why?" Molly whispered, eyes bright.

"There is no reason," he admitted. "It was a one-time thing, a slip up. Y-You don't know how rotten I've felt. I will never be able to forgive myself. I don't expect you to forgive me, but I beg you, don't let this end things for us."

"You know, I never did like it when you went out with your brothers."

"Molly, I've never cheated on you, never even looked at another woman before this. I promise." He reached out for her hand, but she recoiled.

"Don't," Molly spat. " _Go_.."

Arthur knew he shouldn't have expected anything else. In time, Molly would either forgive him or condemn him, and with how things were going, he wouldn't be surprised if it were the latter. Besides, he knew what he would do if he were in her position.

From that night on, an unspoken agreement was formed between the four oldest Weasleys that none of them would breathe a word to another soul concerning the events that took place on Saturday, July 4, 1998.

**oOoOo**

Over the next week and a half, neither Molly nor Arthur communicated to one another. Molly did not heed Arthur's warning that Conner could be dangerous and kept meeting with him. Arthur spent more time at work and stuck to his usual extracurricular activities in his free time. It wasn't until the next Friday that the couple was called into the same room.

Molly had gone to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes that afternoon to speak to George for the first time since Percy's engagement party. Ginny's three weeks would be up the next day, and she didn't care what Arthur said, her daughter would be moving back home. Unfortunately, this led to a full blown argument between her and her somewhat estranged son in his office.

When he had had enough, George stepped out of the office and told Harry to send a patronus to Arthur at work saying something important had come up and he needed him in his office immediately. Ever since Fred had been killed, George was unable to produce his own patronus. It was odd, but it didn't really bother him.

It wasn't long before Arthur entered George's office. Upon his entrance, the spouses spotted each other simultaneously.

Molly asked, "What are you playing at, George?" at the same time Arthur mumbled, "I knew I shouldn't've come."

"This isn't about either of you," George cut in. "Though both of you should pull your head out of your arse."

"George," both of his parents reprimanded.

"I'm only saying what everyone is thinking. You are both to blame. You have both done things to damage your relationship. This is ridiculous! Nothing has happened to cause you two to be like this. Fred's death shouldn't have done this. If anything, it should have brought you two closer."

"Don't bring him into this," Molly said.

"You are not going to sweep him under the carpet like you did Gracie. I am bringing him into this because he would be standing here saying the same damn thing." George couldn't help himself. His mother had pushed his temper over the edge already, and with how everything else had been going, he felt he needed to tell his parents how stupid they were being. He took a deep breath. "But that's beside the point. Dad told us Ginny can stay with me until she goes to Hogwarts and if any issues arose to come to him." George looked at his father pointedly. "Mum said she has to go back to the Burrow tomorrow night."

Arthur was about to defend his son and daughter before catching Molly's glower. As much as he wanted his kids to be happy, he knew that going against his wife, especially after what he had done, would only make matters worse. Glancing back at an expectant George, he was torn. The kids he did have meant the world to him, but he wanted his family to be whole again even if it was a long shot. The guilt on top of that made him feel powerless.

"I'm sorry, George," Arthur apologized. "I don't have a say anymore."

"What? Did I miss something? Or are you just going back on your word again?" George shot.

"I don't have a choice," Arthur ground out.

"I'll be by after you close tomorrow to pick up Ginny. Make sure she's packed," Molly instructed, head held high in victory.

George leaned on his desk. He had thought, for sure, his dad would have stood up for him. His dad was never consistent nowadays though. He looked up and, through gritted teeth, he commanded, "Get out." When Molly didn't move, he added, "Both of you. And, Mother, don't even contact me unless it's about my sister."

As they made their way to the front of the store, Molly asked, "So does your word not mean anything anymore?"

This made Arthur stop in his tracks, causing Molly to nearly run into him. She knew exactly why he let her have her way and now she was goading him? This was unbelievable. Did she not want the same thing he did, for their lives to return to normal?

When he turned around, he pointed out, "That only would have had us at each other's throats. I swear, sometimes you like the conflict."

"No, Arthur, I don't, but there is no middle ground with you anymore. You always either let things happen or completely go off the deep end."

"You know why I didn't say anything in there? Because," Arthur ducked a toy flying overhead, "I knew it would only make things worse for everyone and I don't want that, but you want to see me let things happen? Fine! I won't do anything! I won't try anymore! I've already come close to quitting once or twice, so it shouldn't be too difficult."

"Do that and see where it gets you, Arthur Weasley," Molly hissed as she passed him and disappeared into the crowd.

Arthur was left standing there, befuddled. What did she mean by that? He didn't think his life could get any worse, so what could she do that would take him below rock bottom?


	25. Sacrifice

An owl pecked at the window as soon as Arthur walked in. It was no surprise. This had been a regular occurrence the past week. He put the brown paper bag and take-out container on the small, unstable kitchen table. He then let the owl in. Arthur took the letter out of its beak. After reading over the letter, he tossed it with the others on the counter.

That letter made fifteen…in the past week…from the same person…saying almost the exact. same. thing. He read them all, nonetheless, but he never replied. He wanted to avoid any further conflict, so he stayed silent. This was getting ridiculous now. Clearly, she was extremely unhappy. Arthur couldn't ignore this any longer.

The owl pecked his hand, gaining his attention. Even though the owl never got one, it waited on a reply. However, tonight Arthur jotted down _On my way._ He gave the bird a few more treats so maybe it would deliver the note before he got there. It took off immediately after.

Arthur took a shot of liquid courage, finishing off that bottle. No doubt, this would not be a pleasant conversation. There was no way he could face his wife completely sober, especially with what he was about to do.

Giving the owl and alcohol a head start, he quickly ate the Chinese take-out. He banished the trash, empty bottles, and dirty glasses that littered the apartment. He stuffed the stack of letters in his back pocket then apparated to the Burrow.

Arthur took a deep breath before knocking on the old, weather-beaten door. Was he really going to sacrifice his marriage for his daughter? Molly had not been showing any signs of forgiveness and if it were not for his kids, he would be entirely alone. He hadn't expected anything from anyone after the past few months. He'd prefer the kids leave him alone, but they obviously still needed him.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Ginny's face lit up.

"Dad!" she blurted, bouncing across the gap between them, nearly knocking him off balance. .

Arthur returned the tight embrace. "I take it the owl hasn't been back yet?" he chuckled with amusement. As he said that, he realized how serious her letters must have been if she was that excited to see him. Then it dawned on him how hopeless she must have felt sending those letters, never to get a reply.

"No, it hasn't. You don't know how happy I am to –"

"Ginny, get back inside," Molly said, standing in the doorway. "What are you doing here?" she directed at Arthur.

Ginny didn't move. She stuck close to her dad, the joyful mood shifting to one of hostility.

"Ginny, now," Molly ordered.

Arthur took a step in front of his daughter. "No. This involves her," he calmly intervened.

Molly took a step onto the porch and gently closed the door behind her. "How is that?" she asked, hands on hips.

"Can we not discuss this inside? Civilly," Arthur suggested.

Molly visibly tensed. Arthur got the feeling there was something inside she didn't want him to see. Conner crossed his mind. If he made his suspicions known again, he knew nothing good could come of it. The thought of Molly with him made Arthur's blood boil. He shook that absurdity out of his head. He needed to focus on the task at hand.

"Arthur, why are you here?" Molly repeated.

"I've done some thinking." Arthur crossed his arms. "I want my daughter."

Unsurprisingly, Molly denied his request without hesitation.

When Ginny began to protest, Arthur intervened again. "Ginny, perhaps you ought to go inside." He looked her in the eyes. "I will handle this. I promise."

Confident her father would handle this, Ginny went inside without further argument.

Arthur pulled the stack of letters out of his pocket, including the few George had sent on his sister's behalf. "She does not have to stay somewhere she hates."

"She is well-taken care of here. Can you say the same if she stays with you?" Molly challenged.

"Of course."

Molly let out a humorless laugh. "This is coming from a man who thinks crisps and peanuts can be considered dinner!"

What? Where on earth did she hear that? Admittedly, Arthur did have that instead of a meal, but not _all_ the time. Only when he didn't realize how late it was and most everywhere had already closed, which, actually, was quite often. It still didn't explain how Molly knew about it.

Before things could escalate, Molly threatened to get Charlie if Arthur did not leave. Arthur refused. He was not going anywhere without his daughter. Plus, he had made her a promise, and he intended to keep it.

"She is going _nowhere_ ," Molly reiterated.

"Would you like to read these and see just how unhappy she is?" Arthur asked, gesturing to the letters. "Or we could get her back out here and ask her," he suggested before calling Ginny. As if she had been standing just on the other side of the door, she was on the porch within seconds.

"Are you happy here?" Arthur asked Ginny.

Without hesitation, Ginny answered, "Miserable."

"And living with an aggressive drunk will be better?" Molly questioned, becoming a bit aggressive herself.

"I'm not a drunk," Arthur objected.

"If you mean _my dad_ , then _yes_ ," Ginny replied hotly. "That will be a hundred times better than living here."

Crossing her arms, her mother coolly replied, "When it's not as great as you thought it would be, don't come crying to me."

Arthur opened the door for his daughter. "Ginny, you and Harry go get packed."

"If you leave, you can't come back home," Molly threatened, clearly grasping at straws.

"Why would I want to come back to an overbearing, self-centered control freak? You have turned into a real world-class bitch and this hasn't been home for months now!" Ginny yelled before storming inside, slamming the door behind her.

Molly stood, dumbfounded, before rounding on Arthur. "I can't believe you let her speak to me that way!"

"Who am I to stand in the way of the truth?" Arthur deadpanned.

"Did you put those thoughts in her head?"

"Nope." Arthur dropped the letters at her feet. "It's all in there, but apparently, she felt you needed to hear it for yourself."

The door swung open. "Mum, what's going on?" Charlie asked. "We came in the back and things were boiling over." He looked forward from pulling the door shut behind him. Upon seeing Arthur, he became defensive. "Why are you here?" he asked harshly.

"Why does it matter to you?" Arthur countered.

Molly intervened this time. "It's okay, Charlie. He's picking up Ginny and Harry."

"What? No."

"We've already discussed it," Molly informed her son.

"You can't be serious. She won't be safe."

"She'll have Harry," Molly assured.

"She won't need Harry. I make one mistake and can't hear the end of it," Arthur griped…Okay, more than one, but everyone makes mistakes. No one is perfect. He tried to pass Molly and Charlie to enter the house, but was stopped by both of them.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To see if the kids need help," he honestly answered. Once again, the suspicion of another man being in the house arose. That would be the only logical reason as to why they were being so secretive. Nothing else would cause them to act this way. He gently pushed past them.

The house did not look any different. Arthur heard noise from upstairs – Ginny and Harry, no doubt – but he also heard movement in the kitchen. Harry had told him about Ron and Hermione going to Australia, so he knew there should only be four people in the house. Someone in the kitchen would make five. An argument was the last thing he wanted, but he looked into the kitchen. His suspicions were confirmed.

Molly had lied to him again. He had expressed his concerns and told her how he felt, and she completely ignored it and so had the other man. If Arthur was in Conner's position, he would have backed off the moment he felt he'd crossed a line. Conner had crossed several, yet he kept coming around. There was nothing else Arthur could do. He had screwed up royally. Some of his kids had forgiven him. The person whom he sought forgiveness from the most clearly wasn't ready yet – if she would ever be willing to forgive was a mystery at this point.

.On his way up to Ginny's room, Arthur slipped into the master bedroom. He had only planned to get Ginny, but now he found himself unclasping his necklace. It was not an ordinary piece of jewelry. It was a knut. A lucky knut, in fact.

_The young couple walked down Hogsmeade's main street. They were fresh out of Hogwarts and had been dating for just over four years. Most of their dates were in Hogsmeade, so this was not an unusual occurrence. However, unbeknownst to Molly, tonight was a very special night._

_As the evening progressed, Arthur found it more and more difficult to stay calm. He had spent months planning out this date. Every possible obstacle, problem, and outcome had crossed his mind and he had planned for every single one. To say he was nervous was an understatement. He was sure Molly would say yes to his proposal, but he wanted the night to be perfect. Then there was the possibility she had changed her mind about him. What if she didn't want to spend the rest of her life with him? What if she decided he would be better as a friend instead of a fiancé or husband? Her parents had never liked the idea of Molly dating him and had even threatened to disown her. What if she wasn't willing to risk that?_

" _Oh!" Molly's exclamation caught Arthur's attention. Before he could stop, their intertwined hands jerked him back. "A knut! You nearly stepped on it. Here," she said, handing it to him._

_A goofy grin spread across his face as he accepted it. Alright, that had to be a good sign, right? In a few short moments he would pop the question and this worn, old knut shows up on the sidewalk._

And as they say, the rest is history. Arthur proposed, Molly said yes, and they had eight kids together. From that point forward, Arthur kept the knut in his shirt pocket every day and set it safely on the nightstand every night. That is, until his and Molly's first wedding anniversary…

_Arthur woke up and began his usual morning routine. When it came time to put his lucky knut in his pocket, he couldn't find it. He knew it was silly, but he would not go anywhere without it. He would ask Molly. Perhaps she knew where it went._

" _Molly," Arthur called, entering the kitchen, "have you seen my lucky knut?"_

" _Hmm? No, I haven't. Don't you think it's time to stop calling it lucky though?" she giggled, turning around from the stove._

_Arthur was offended. How could she make fun of that? She knew how important it was to him. "I can't find it anywhere. Are you sure you haven't done anything with it?"_

" _I'm positive," she assured. "I'll look for it while you're at work. I promise. It's around here somewhere."_

_Arthur fretted over it all day. It had become like an extra appendage. He couldn't wait to get home. If anyone could find it, Molly could. But how could it have gotten lost in the first place?_

_To_ his _dismay, Molly said she had not found it. However, when he was getting ready for their anniversary dinner, she came up behind him and clasped a necklace around his neck and pecked his cheek. When_ Arthur _looked down, it was his knut. He could tell from every little nick and scratch on it. Molly had taken it to be turned into a necklace while he was gone. No matter how silly she thought that lucky knut was, she knew how important it was to him._

After turning it over in his hand, Arthur hung the necklace on the dresser mirror. He no longer had a need for it. Apparently, Molly was right. It was only a worn piece of metal. Or at least it was now. His luck had run out.

Before he left, Arthur looked around the room. Nothing was out of place. Not a speck of dust could be found. The pictures sat how they had for years. The bed was neatly made. Molly's nightclothes lay folded at the foot…But that wasn't her nightshirt; it was a man's shirt. Arthur was ready to go down and confront her, but then he realized it was actually his shirt. He thought he had gotten all of his things when he left, but his favorite shirt had been missing. He could only think that he had dropped it in the rush to get out.

If Molly was still wearing his shirt, that had to mean she still loved him. But why did she not show it? He understood she would still be angry with him for his one night stand, but wouldn't she want to forget about him completely then – at least for the time being? Why was she defying him and seeing this other man? Her actions behind closed doors contradicted her public actions. Arthur wished she would stop playing these games. He wished she would stop toying with him, because all this was doing was confusing him and making him feel worse.

**oOoOo**

"Mum," Charlie began.

"I know," Molly responded before he could get another word out. She wasn't sure what Charlie was going to say, but she guessed. Either he was going to remind her that Conner was inside or tell her that he smelled alcohol on Arthur's breath.

"You're going to let him take Ginny like this?"

Molly wasn't sure what to do. On one hand, she knew Ginny would be happier away from her; on the other, Molly knew she wouldn't be as safe with Arthur. And she did still care for him. She still loved him. How could she not? She was afraid that if she told him no, it would push him further away. Maybe if he had his daughter to take care of, he would come to himself. So, her fear of losing him completely out-weighing fear for their daughter, she would let him take Ginny.

She replied to Charlie," Yes…I-I am."

She hoped Arthur hadn't seen Conner. That would only make things worse. Seeing as her husband hadn't stormed out of the house, she assumed he hadn't seen the Irishman. There really was nothing to worry about, like she had told him half a dozen times before. Trying to hide the fact that Conner was there would not look good though.

Molly knew Arthur didn't want her near him, but she had to do what helped her. Conner was the only person she knew that had been through something similar. But, in all honesty, she and Conner had not been discussing the situation as much as they had at first. The past couple of weeks, she would invite him for dinner just to chat. Ron and Charlie got on well with him, and it was nice to have a distraction. No one had realized how frequently Conner had been coming over.

When Molly and Charlie went back into the house, Charlie stood at the bottom of the steps, waiting for Arthur to leave, and Molly went into the kitchen. Conner informed her that supper was ruined. Nearly everything was burnt. She accepted his offer to take them to dinner in the village.

Footsteps were heard coming down the stairs. Conner stayed in the kitchen while Molly went into the sitting room. Ginny and Harry came into view, bags packed, with Arthur close behind. As usual, Harry was polite and cordial, but Ginny gave her the same cold treatment she had for the past five weeks. She wasn't expecting Arthur to look at her let alone speak to her, but he did.

"Let me know when you've figured out what you want," he said before following the kids out.

Molly wasn't one hundred percent sure what he meant by that.

The whole time they were in the village, Molly's mind was preoccupied. Would Ginny stop despising her now that she got what she wanted? Would she be safe with Arthur? Would this turn things around? Did she want to work things out with her husband? He had been aggressive when he was sober before she left him and worse when he was drunk. That was mostly her fault though – No, it wasn't. Arthur had never acted that way in his life. The way he suddenly became domineering baffled Molly. Only having seen him a handful of time since then did not help her decide whether or not she was ready to forgive him. His actions were never consistent.

Once they returned to the Burrow, Molly disappeared to the master bath. The hot water soothed her immensely. The stress she thought would decrease after the war's end had only intensified. She allowed her mind to clear from the dozens of buzzing questions.

Her relaxed state soon ended however. When she went to put on her nightclothes, she noticed Arthur's shirt lay in a heap instead of neatly folded. Evidently, Arthur had been in the room earlier that evening. Why hadn't he taken his shirt back? Did he realize how much she needed it? She was glad he had left it. For some reason, it comforted her.

As she dressed, something on the dresser mirror caught her eye. She immediately knew what it was. To her, it was just a silly necklace, but to Arthur it was much more than that. In the past twenty-nine years, she had never seen him take it off. She could not imagine why he would remove it.

During her bath, Molly thought she would finally be able to sleep well, but yet again, Arthur prevented that.


	26. Promotion

The weekend passed without incident. Ginny and Harry worked the morning shift at the joke shop. Bill "needed" Arthur's help at Shell Cottage Saturday, and Percy invited him to breakfast Sunday. In all honesty, they were only trying to keep their father busy. George made sure Ginny and Harry only worked morning shifts during the week to ensure their dad wasn't alone in the evenings. None of the boys wanted Arthur to do something to disappoint their little sister. Hell, they might even kill two birds with one stone because Arthur always made it a point to be home right after work, no one saw him drinking, and his mood seemed to have lifted the tiniest bit.

The first few nights, the trio ended up eating out. Arthur had attempted to cook one night, but it turned out to be more like Hagrid's rock cakes. Harry took over after that. Bill, Fleur, George, Percy, and Audrey even came over for dinner one night.

The weekend had been rather enjoyable, even for Arthur. The full days and time spent with family kept everyone's minds busy. However, after Ginny and Harry went to bed was the worst for Arthur. It wasn't the sleeping on the couch. He was used to that. It was the deafening silence - the intrusive thoughts – the little voice that told him no one would find out if he drank this late. He resisted it.

On the other hand, Molly wasn't doing so well. There was practically no one at the Burrow. Ron and Hermione would not be back from Australia for a few more weeks. Charlie was working with Hagrid and preparing to move. Bill and Percy each only had a half a day to spare. She couldn't help thinking about what Arthur had told her when he left with Ginny. She wanted to make up with him, but she couldn't bring herself to. She wasn't ready to forgive him yet. If Friday night was any indication, he was still drinking. The dreadful loneliness won out. Molly invited Conner over both days.

The following weekend was similar, except that Charlie moved Saturday. Bill and Conner helped. Molly cooked a week's worth of food for her second oldest. Percy was stuck at work all weekend. Molly had thought Ginny or George would at least owl her by now. The only post she received was an update from Ron telling her it looked like he and Hermione would be gone longer than expected.

The next week and weekend passed without incident for Arthur. The kids kept coming around. As for Molly, Charlie would pop in for dinner and she would invite Conner over quite often.

Monday morning, Arthur received a letter from Kingsley requesting his presence at the end of the day. Due to the formality of the letter, Arthur couldn't help being nervous. He had only been intoxicated at work twice, and that was nearly two months ago. Maybe Kingsley would cut him some slack. Arthur wasn't sure why he would have waited this long to confront the issue, but there was no other reason he could think of that would cause this much formality. Usually, Kingsley would come to Arthur's office to chat, not the other way around.

Upon entering the Minister's outer office, Arthur looked to Percy for clarification, but Percy did not let on if he knew anything. Instead, he treated his father as another work colleague and informed the Minister of his arrival. Arthur was then let into the Minister's inner office.

Kingsley was pouring himself a drink at the small, ornate liquor cabinet in the corner of his office. He glanced over his shoulder and shot Arthur a smile. "Good evening, Arthur," he greeted.

"H-How are you, Kingsley?" Arthur stuttered, scratching the back of his neck.

Kingsley turned away from the cabinet "Busy. I've actually needed to talk to you for a while now. Other things have had to take precedence."

 _Shite!_ Arthur cursed himself, _He knows. He's a good friend. He'll let you off with a warning._ "Oh?"

"Yes, but we will get to that in a minute. Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?" Kingsley offered.

Arthur frowned. "Why?"

"Why not?"

"It's against Ministry Policy. You, of all people, should know that."

Kingsley looked at the clock. "It's five o'clock right…" he watched the second hand tick four times, "now. The workday is over, so it doesn't matter. Besides, being Minister has its perks"

Arthur knew this probably wasn't a good idea. It was still unclear if this was a test that could potentially cost him his job. With how busy he had been and with someone always being around him, he had not drank since Ginny and Harry moved in. So if it didn't lose him his job, it could possibly snowball and lose him his daughter. Before he knew what he was doing, Arthur said, "Sure, I'll have whatever you're drinking." The part of him that missed the way the smooth amber liquid burned his throat and the thought that he wouldn't fall back into that cycle taking control.

"Scotch it is," Kingsley said.

The two men chatted idly as Kingsley poured Arthur's drink. As he handed the glass to Arthur, Kingsley flicked his wand and sent the bottle to a small table between two arm chairs in the corner of his office. Kingsley led Arthur to sit in the cushioned leather chairs.

As soon as he sat down, Arthur took a sip, closing his eyes as he savored the sweet flavor and the smooth burn that buried itself deep within his chest. He let out an inadvertent sigh. It had been just over two weeks since his last drink, but he didn't realize to what extent he missed it – how much he craved it - how much he _needed_ it.

Kingsley observed curiously. The whisky was palatable, but it wasn't anything special. The many times he had drank with Arthur, the older man had never had this reaction. At least, not that he remembered. This raised a flag for Kingsley.

Arthur noticed Kingsley watching him. "It's been a while." He smirked, trying to ignore the renewed feeling of guilt that quickly crept up on him.

Kingsley wasn't sure how honest Arthur was being. He took a sip from his own glass and moved on. "I'm sorry I haven't visited recently. The past several weeks have been hectic. I've been working on starting a new department. How are Molly and the kids?"

Arthur hated it whenever someone asked this question. He always tried pushing Molly, Ron, and Charlie to the back of his mind. Besides, how was he supposed to know when he hadn't seen half his family in weeks? "They're well," he snapped before finishing the rest of his drink.

"Long day?" Kingsley queried, still suspicious. He refilled Arthur's glass.

"Something like that."

"So how are you, Arthur?" he asked, trying to see if there was something Arthur wasn't telling him.

"I'm fine. So fine, in fact, that I couldn't ask for anything else," he answered, doing a remarkable job at hiding how he really was.

"Well, you don't have to ask…because I'm offering."

"What are you talking about, Kingsley?"

"This new department I've been working on: The Department of Muggle Relations." Arthur had an idea of where this was going now. "The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office will be expanded and moved to Level Three. Obliviator Headquarters will primarily be under the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophies, but there will also be work for the Department of Muggle Relations. The Muggle-Worthy Excuses Committee and Office of Misinformation will be moved to the Department of Muggle Relations. A few new offices, such as the Muggle Correspondence and Liaison Office and the Discrimination Against Muggles and Muggle-borns Office, will be added. This will be revolutionary! There has never been a department dealing solely with Muggles and Muggle-borns in Britain. The Ministry will gain a lot of PR from this and will gain renewed support from Wizarding Britain." He paused. "And I want you to head it."

There it was. What Arthur had been expecting since he heard the name of the new department. Two months ago, he would have been ecstatic, but now he couldn't care less. To Kingsley's surprise, Arthur declined with a simple, "No."

"Arthur, you are the best person for this job and, honestly, the only person I want to head this department. With how passionate you have always been about Muggles, I know I can trust you to do the job right. You're one of the few Pureblood families that openly stood against Voldemort and never swayed."

"I'm sorry, Kingsley. I'm just not interested."

"Look, Arthur, I understand this is a lot of work and it will take time away from your family, but after the first few months, everything should be settled and the workload will decrease immensely. Until then, you can take your work home as long as deadlines are met and, of course, you will be paid overtime. If you take this position, you will be making twice as much as you are now."

"Kingsley, you and I both know the Ministry can't afford a new department." Since the end of the First War, it was rather well-known that the Ministry was in deep debt.

The Minister took a sip from his glass. "Actually, the past four Ministers were embezzling money throughout their tenure, with the exception of Scrimengeour. Not only that, but the Ministry has received a substantial amount in fines and assets seized from Death Eaters. The wizarding community can expect a tax break soon, too."

"The answer is still 'no.'"

"Fine, triple what you're making now," Kingsley offered, grasping at straws. There really was no one better for the job. If he couldn't have Arthur heading it, he might as well cancel the whole thing "You'd be making more than any other department head, except for the Head of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Kingsley, I don't care about the money. You know that."

"Okay. Tell me what you want and it's yours," the Minister of Magic offered.

"I don't want anything. I'm just not interested," Arthur repeated.

This struck Kingsley as odd. At first, he thought Arthur was being modest, but it seemed like he really _didn't_ want the promotion. "Is this not your dream job? You've stayed in a crappy, dead-end job and declined numerous promotions because you wanted to deal with Muggles. Now you're being asked to head a _Muggle-centered department_ , and you are declining? That doesn't make any sense."

"It used to be, but I've lost interest. I don't care anymore. It's just another job now."

"If it's like any other job now, why don't you take it? You'll be in a higher position, have more authority, and earn three times what you do now. Take the family out to a fancy dinner, buy Molly something nice, expand the Burrow. You'll have grandkids before you know it and you'll regret not taking this job."

To this point, they had both been sipping their drinks. Kingsley had poured himself a second and Arthur a third then a fourth. In response to what he was hoping to be Kingsley's final plea, Arthur downed the rest of his drink and stood, wanting to hear no more. Kingsley quickly followed.

"Arthur, I'm begging you now. I don't trust anyone else with this position. Go home and talk it over with Molly? I'll expect a definite answer by the end of the day tomorrow."

"God, you really don't want anyone else, do you?" Arthur asked, finally coming to realize how important this was to his friend.

"No."

"Fine. I'll think about it, but I won't make any promises."

On his way out, Arthur avoided making eye contact with Percy, not wanting him to figure out he'd been drinking.

"Percy, you didn't have to stay late," Kingsley said as he saw the younger man at the desk.

Percy stood and took a few steps toward the Minister. "I wanted to make sure you didn't need anything else, sir."

"There's nothing else. Thank you," he said as he turned to reenter his office. "Oh, remember, I need those reports first thing in the morning."

"I have them right here, sir," Percy said, grabbing a stack of papers off his desk and handing them to the Minister. As he did so, he noticed a bottle and two empty glasses on the table in the Minister's office.

"Thank you, Percy. Now, go home. Get some rest," Kingsley said, taking the papers and closing the door. He couldn't stop thinking that something seemed off with Arthur this evening. Arthur's speech never became slurred and his balance was well enough. Kingsley hadn't been checking in as often as he ought to, and he knew that. In the weeks following the war, he had been invited to dinner at the Burrow numerous times. He was always too busy. Then, the invitations abruptly stopped. After this meeting, Kingsley couldn't help feeling that something was very wrong. On his way home, he would stop by the Burrow. When he arrived a couple hours later, no one would be there.

Percy quickly slipped into his traveling cloak and picked up his recently packed briefcase. If he was lucky, he could just catch his dad at the lift. Surprisingly, Arthur was still waiting for one when he got there.

"Hi, Dad. Sorry about earlier. You know I like to keep work and home separate," Percy apologized as he came to stop next to Arthur.

Arthur continued facing forward as he responded, "I know." He really had no idea why his son was apologizing for that. When Percy had been sent to the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office in an official capacity, he had maintained that same demeanor.

"Remember we're all coming over for dinner tonight. Ginny wanted to try her hand at shepherd's pie with minimal help from Harry. I have to say, she has a real knack for cooking. I'm sure she got that from Mu-" he broke off into a forced cough, having realized who he had nearly brought up. Recently, Percy and his siblings had avoided talking about their mum around their dad and vice versa. That is unless the parent brought it up first, which Arthur never did and Molly actually asked about Arthur quite often.

The lift came to the rescue at that point. The two redheads stepped in. The only other occupant was the house elf that controlled it.

A few seconds of tense silence passed before Percy faced his father and asked, "Are you angry with me?"

Staring at the slow-changing numbers over the door, Arthur honestly replied, "No."

Percy narrowed his eyes. "Did you lose your job?" he ventured gently.

"No."

Percy already knew why his father wouldn't look at him, but it was a relief to have that question answered. He hadn't told Minister Shacklebolt about his dad being drunk at work that time, but he still could have found out somehow.

Percy noticed the lift was one floor away from the Atrium. "Hold the lift please, Tibby," he ordered the young house elf. The lift jolted to a halt. "Why won't you look at me then?" he asked, giving Arthur a chance to confess.

Arthur finally made complete eye contact with his son while simultaneously taking a step back. "There. Are you happy now?"

"Is there anything you want to tell me?" Percy gave him one last opportunity to come clean.

"No. What Kingsley has to say to me is mine and his business alone."

Okay. He would have to call him out then. "That's not what I was talking about. I don't understand why you try to hide it. You even know we can tell when you've been drinking, I was hoping you would come out and tell me, so you wouldn't break my trust again!"

Arthur knew he should have known better. "I swear, this is the only time since Ginny moved in."

"Why should I believe that?"

"Because you know I would _not_ risk losing her."

"You risked it just now," Percy pointed out.

"I know." Arthur put his hands up in admission. "I know. It was stupid, but I thought one drink wouldn't hurt – "

"One?" Percy raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Okay…" Maybe if he was honest now, Percy would let it slide, "Four."

"Four?!" Percy blurted.

This reaction did not set well with Arthur. Could he talk himself out of this one? "It barely had an effect on me. Please do not tell anyone, son," he pleaded. "You don't know what I jeopardized by taking her from your mother."

Percy motioned for the young elf to continue to the Atrium as he thought about his answer. With how much time he and his siblings had been spending with their dad, someone would have noticed if he had been drinking. It did seem like he had improved since Ginny and Harry had moved in. After Charlie told Bill, Percy had heard what had happened when their dad had picked up Ginny, so he had some clue as to how that impacted his parents' relationship. Maybe he could turn a blind eye this one time.

"Percy?" Arthur asked as they stepped out of the lift.

"Is this going to become a thing again?" the bespectacled young man questioned.

Arthur looked his son in the eye. "No. This was a mistake, and I know that."

"Fine, but if you do this again, I won't ignore it."

A wave of relief washed over Arthur as the two parted ways. Percy had to change and pick up Audrey for dinner. Arthur went straight home. If he was lucky, he could just beat Ginny and Harry.

**oOoOo**

_Tick…Tock…Tick…Tock…Tick...Tock…Tick…Tock._ The seconds passed on the normal clock, loudly announcing it to the Burrow. Intermittently, the Weasley Family clock would chime as a hand moved from "Work" to "Traveling" to "Home" then back to "Traveling." Only four hands did not move. Arthur's hand, along with George's, remained on "Lost" while Molly's sat on "Home" and Ron's on "Traveling." Each time someone else's hand moved to "Home" it was their own. After all the hands stopped – most on "Traveling" – Molly realized an hour had passed.

Even though the kids who were still speaking to her had said they would not be coming over tonight, she hoped one of them would stop by for a few minutes. It would be her daughter's seventeenth birthday tomorrow. It crushed her to know that she wouldn't hear from Ginny, let alone get to celebrate this big day. Her sons knew that. One of them ought to pop in. When none did, she assumed they would be at their father's.

Tonight was the first night Molly was completely alone.

She got up from the kitchen table and straightened her dress before putting on her apron. Staring at the stove, she contemplated what to cook for dinner, or if she even should. There wasn't much motivation to cook. She would be cooking for herself, and she hadn't had much of an appetite recently.

There was a knock at the door as she was taking off her apron. Her heart lifted briefly before she realized her kids wouldn't knock.

"Coming!" she called, making her way to the front door. After opening it, a smile unconsciously graced her lips. "Conner!"

"Hi, Molly!" he greeted as she let him in.

"Oh! I must look a mess!" She started running her fingers through her hair. "I wasn't expecting company."

Conner took her hand to stop her. "You look beautiful, as always."

Molly's face reddened at his compliment.

"I'm sorry to drop in like this. I thought I would check on you since you told me that your kids had plans."

Molly blushed further. "Oh, how sweet."

"Have you eaten yet?"

"No, I haven't even cooked."

"Great! How about we get you out of the house for a while? Any restaurant you want, it's on me. Then we can goof off and get you home as late as you want."

Molly was startled. She and Conner would spend most nights together, but they had never gone out, just the two of them. She wasn't too sure how she felt about this proposition. Did Conner want something more? Was she coming across like she wanted something more?

"Conner…this sounds like a - a date," she ventured.

Conner rubbed his forehead and chuckled at himself. "Oh, God, no. I didn't mean for it to come across that way. No, just two friends escaping from our lives." He smiled.

When he put it that way, it was hard for Molly to refuse. It was always nice to be around him and getting away for a few hours would be a great distraction.

"Okay. Let me go get ready," Molly chirped, her smile returning bigger than it had been.

Conner stopped her. "You're fine. Really."

"At least let me freshen up?"

"Okay," Conner conceded and sat in Arthur's armchair..

Molly rushed upstairs. After several minutes of deliberation, she changed into a medium-length solid blue dress. It was one of her nicer dresses, but not the nicest - a comfortable, casual dress, if you will. She brushed her teeth and hair and sprinsed on some perfume then headed back downstairs.

Conner stood as he heard her footfalls on the steps. He looked her up and down. "Wow," he breathed. "Stunning."

"Thank you." Molly looked down sheepishly and tucked some hair behind an ear.

Sensing the shift in atmosphere, Conner decided to lighten the mood. He glanced at his watch. "And all in under ten minutes, too," he chuckled.

"Well, seven kids never gave me much time to get ready." She smirked.

"Do you know where you want to go?" Conner asked, offering his arm which Molly took.

"Surprise me."

"Near or far?" he asked.

Molly answered without hesitation, "Far."

After a second's thought, they disapparated.

**oOoOo**

Arthur apparated directly into his flat. It took a few seconds to adjust to his surroundings, but he could hear rustling of bags and giggling coming from the kitchen. Ginny and Harry were already home.

"Hey, Dad!"

"Hi, Mr. Weasley."

The kids greeted him, but luckily neither approached him, too busy with the groceries.

"Good evening!" Arthur boomed with a smile as he would any other day since the kids had moved in. He quickly slipped out of his traveling cloak and tossed it onto the sofa. "Let me get washed up and I can help," he offered, making his way into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him.

Arthur brushed his teeth and splashed some cool water on his face. That should be sufficient enough. He knew he ought to take a Sober-Up Potion just in case, but he really didn't want to. Percy had been wrong in the elevator. They couldn't always tell when he had been drinking. They could always tell when he was _drunk_. There was a big difference. He wasn't sure how his son could tell that evening. Since he had barely had any, no one else should be able to tell. If they did, Arthur would just tell them what he had told Percy and pray they would also give him a pass.

Once he was satisfied no one would smell alcohol on him, Arthur joined his daughter and Harry in the kitchen. He kissed Ginny atop the head and shook Harry's hand. "Is there anything you need me to do, sweetie?" Arthur asked Ginny.

"Not right now. When it's closer to being done, we'll need to conjure a bigger table and more chairs though," she answered. "You're home late, aren't you?"

"I had a meeting with Kingsley," he quickly answered.

There was a knock at the door before George let himself in. "Anyone miss me?" he asked.

"In the past half hour? No!" Ginny joked.

It wasn't long before Ginny kicked Harry out of the kitchen and Percy and Bill arrived with Audrey and Fleur. After offering to help and being turned down, the ladies joined the men in the living room. Everyone had gotten used to the cramped space. Three or four chairs always had to be conjured or else someone was sitting on the floor or standing.

Arthur couldn't quite pay attention to the conversation. Even though he was eighty percent sure he would accept the promotion, he was still mulling it over, making a mental list of pros and cons. However, he would never get too far because Molly would intrude on his thoughts. For some reason, he couldn't keep her pushed to the back of his mind. He couldn't help but wonder how she was and what she was doing. While Arthur was trying to wrangle these thoughts, he was also constantly thinking about another drink; he had been bothered by that thought before, but it was usually when he was alone, not with his kids. If he ignored it long enough, he thought it would eventually disappear.

"So what do you think, Dad?" he heard a distant voice ask.

"Dad?" came another voice.

Arthur blinked.

"Maybe I should set off a firecracker," George said.

Finally, Arthur came out of his trance.

Percy watched him intently. "Dad, are you alright?"

"Yeah…yeah."

"Are you sure?" George asked. "You zoned out for a while there."

Arthur nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking."

No one was quite convinced, but let it slide.

"So, Audrey and I have set a wedding date," Percy apparently restated for his father's sake.

"Oh? When is it?" Arthur asked.

"October the eighteenth," Audrey answered.

"That's a little soon, don't you think?"

"I suppose, but we still have about –" Percy quickly counted on his fingers "- ten weeks, and we're ready, so why not? You ended up eloping instead of having a ceremony and look how…" he trailed off. He really needed to start thinking before he spoke.

Audrey came to the rescue. "Hopefully, we'll be sending out the invitations Wednesday."

"Okay. It's your wedding. If you need any help, let me know," Arthur offered, starting a series of offers from the rest of the room.

The oven shut in the kitchen and Ginny came to join them. "And what about me?" she asked. "I'd like to go to my brother's wedding, no matter how much of a twat you used to be," she finished with a smirk.

"Don't worry, Gin. I'll break you out of school," George joked.

"I'll send Minerva a letter. It shouldn't be an issue for you to come home for a weekend," her dad assured.

The larger conversation soon broke up into smaller ones. The girls began chattering about the wedding ceremony and reception; inevitably, Percy was pulled into the discussion as well. Arthur did his best to stay involved in the conversation with George, Bill, and Harry about the weekend's Quidditch match between Italy and Germany. He could not stop thinking about Molly no matter how hard he tried. When he had had enough, he politely asked to speak with Bill and Percy in private

"What is it, Dad?" Bill asked once they were in the bedroom.

"Is something wrong?" Percy restated.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair and sat on the edge of the bed. It took a minute to get his words out. "How is she? Your mum? In all honesty."

This took both boys by surprise. Maybe since their dad was asking questions now, things would soon get better between their parents. It was obvious their mother was ready to take the next step and open up a conversation even if she wasn't ready to forgive him yet.

"Well, Dad…she's not great. She does her best to hide it around us, but she never does a very good job," Percy began.

"Yeah. She asks about you a lot - like every day. 'How's your dad? Have you seen him? Is Ginny taking care of him? Is he still on the drink?'" Bill continued with a poor impression of their mother.

"She's really lonely. Especially since Charlie moved out."

"Charlie moved out?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah, he found a house in Hogsmeade. Moved in last weekend," Bill informed.

"Where is all this coming from, Dad?" Percy asked.

"Dinner's ready!" Ginny announced.

Arthur stood. "I don't know, but maybe I can stop thinking about it now."

Oops. Perhaps this wasn't a step forward.

The table and chairs were already set up when they rejoined the others. Arthur took his seat at the head of the table and everyone else sat with their significant other while George sat at the opposite end. The bowl of Caesar salad and the shepherd's pie were passed around the table. Ginny had a surprise dessert in the oven.

"How long will we be doing this?" Arthur asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?" George responded, mouth full of food. This earned him a disapproving look from Percy which went unnoticed.

"Having large dinners like this. Will it continue when Ginny is back in school?"

"Of course!" and "Yeah," came from multiple people around the table.

"Just because she'll be at Hogwarts doesn't mean we'll stop coming 'round," Bill answered.

"We could do this once or twice a week. Then Mum's once or twice a week. And have the other days to ourselves or have smaller dinners," Percy suggested.

"Hell, I'll come over every night if it means free food," George chuckled.

"Who's going to cook?" Ginny asked. "We've all had your food at some point, and, no offense, Dad, but it is barely edible." Laughter erupted around the table.

"God, I know. I can't even eat it," Arthur admitted.

"We could take turns," Audrey said.

Arthur spent a few more moments contemplating his decision. With the raise, he could move to a larger flat and afford these family dinners. He had to admit he liked having the kids around. It was better than self-imposed isolation, he found. Whenever they were around, he usually didn't think about drinking; Arthur had no idea why that wasn't the case tonight. If he wasn't thinking about the promotion or Molly, he was thinking about alcohol. Even with the kids' confirmation, a fear lingered that the kids would stop coming over after Ginny went to school.

Everyone had finished eating and the dessert was still baking when Arthur made his final decision. He cleared his throat. The table quietened. "You've all noticed I haven't been paying much attention tonight. There are a few reasons for that. The main one being: I may not be working in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office anymore."

Percy interrupted him. "You told me you weren't fired."

"Why would you be fired?" Bill fixed his father with a steely gaze.

"You were fired?" George asked in disbelief.

"No, no, no." Arthur rubbed his forehead. "I've been offered a promotion."

"But…you may not…?" Bill ventured. "Are you thinking about declining?"

"What's the new position?" Ginny asked excitedly as she got up to take the cookies out of the oven. She had wanted a cake since it was her birthday tomorrow, but she was told she had to wait until her and Percy's combined birthday party.

"At first, I was pretty adamant about declining, but Kingsley made it clear that I am the only person he wants. He's been working on building a new department. He wants me to head it."

"The Department of Muggle Relations? Why would you not accept that?" Percy asked, astonished.

Arthur shrugged. "It's not really in my current interest. However, I've done some more thinking and it would be nice to help a friend out. Moving into a larger place wouldn't hurt either."

Everyone congratulated Arthur, but there was no further discussion. Of course, they were all concerned. Six months ago, this would be their dad's dream job and now it didn't seem like he even cared. His last statement signaled to the kids that their parents' separation was far from over.

**oOoOo**

When Molly opened her eyes, she and Conner were outside of a small restaurant on the coast. A sign out front read "Cara's Seafood Grill." The breeze gently blew her hair out of her face. As she looked around, she knew she had never been here before.

"Where are we?" she asked.

Conner grinned and answered, "Galway."

Awestruck, Molly couldn't help laughing. "Galway? That's a bit far, isn't it?"

"You said to surprise you. Besides, this is the best seafood restaurant I've come across," he said as he held the door open for her.

It wasn't long before the two were seated outside on the patio. The sun was beginning to sink into the water, and the blue sky was slowly changing into various shades of orange. Strings of large round lights lit up overhead as they looked over their menus.

"You should try the oysters," Conner suggested." They're best with a nice Muscadet wine if you want the full experience."

Molly looked at him warily. "Won't that bother you?"

"What?"

"You're an alcoholic –"

"- Recovering –" Conner corrected.

"Oh, sorry," Molly apologized. "Wouldn't that –"

"Molly, it's not a problem. I've been sober for two years, and if you've forgotten, your sons have drank around me before."

"Right." She sighed.

"Now, I insist you have the oysters and Muscadet. It is the best pairing and, this is the best seafood restaurant, as I've mentioned." He grinned.

Molly finally trusted that Conner knew what he was talking about. She did like oysters and enjoyed the occasional glass of wine as well. Conner ended up ordering the oysters and water.

By the time they finished, it had been dark for a good hour or so. Dinner had gone by so quickly neither of them realized how late it had gotten.

As they exited the restaurant, Molly took Conner's hand, smiled, and said, "That was wonderful. Thank you."

Conner returned the smile. He kissed the back of her hand. "My pleasure."

"I hate that it's over."

"Who said it had to be over? The night is still young. We could take a walk, go dancing, anything you want."

Molly's face lit up. "Dancing sounds fun! It's been ages since I've been." Her demeanor changed suddenly. "Oh, but you have work in the morning."

"I can take the day off. I think it's about time for me to use some personal time anyway." He held her hand as they walked down the sidewalk. "There is one place I'd like to show you first though. If you don't mind, that is."

"Lead the way!" Molly bubbled.

A few minutes later, the couple was walking around South Park. Molly loved the way it sat right on the coast. The air smelled of salt water, waves crashed against rocks, and seagulls squawked. There was only a handful of other people there.

"Wow. This is so peaceful," she whispered. "I always thought Galway was full of tourists."

"Well, it is. Most people tend to stay near the city center. Eyre Square is always full of people. When you get out to the Claddagh, there's barely anyone around, and the people you do see are locals," Conner explained. They sat on the rock wall overlooking the ocean.

"What is that? Out there." Molly asked, pointing to a dark mass about a kilometer offshore.

"Mutton Island. It's nothing special, but it is a nice little walk."

The next couple hours were spent strolling around the Claddagh. Even though she didn't live too far from the coast in Devon, Molly had never realized how much she loved it. Or, perhaps, it was the Galway coast she loved. Or maybe it was just that evening in particular. It could have been the person she was with, but she wouldn't let her mind go there.

When it had gotten later, Conner pointed out if they wanted to go dancing, now was the perfect time. It was late enough for things to be lively, but not so late that most everyone would be hammered. The rest of the night in Galway, Conner took Molly to a few of the best dancing spots. It was two in the morning when they walked out onto the sidewalk for the last time, hand in hand.

"Well," Conner sighed, "if you want, I can take you home or –"

"I really don't want to. But I don't want to keep you out,"" Molly added hastily. "If you want to go home, that's fine."

"On the contrary, I've had an amazing time tonight." He smiled. "There's one more place I want to show you unless you have somewhere in mind."

"No. Lead the way," she said, leaning into him.

A second later, they apparated on the top of a cliff. The pale moonlight lit the nearby fields and the crashing waves seven hundred feet below.

"The Cliffs of Moher, all to ourselves," Conner announced, gesturing to the landscape around them.

"Are we allowed to be here?" Molly asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

"As long as we don't get caught." He grinned.

This awakened a feeling that Molly hadn't felt in decades: mischievousness. At school, she was always the one to explore Hogwarts, find the hidden passages, sneak out after hours. A handful of times, she even snuck down to Hogsmeade and the Forbidden forest. When she had kids, that mischievous spirit was replaced with protectiveness for her children.

After they had walked along the cliff side, they found a soft, grassy spot to lie on a good ways back from the edge. Conner pointed out various constellations as they lay on their backs. The lack of light pollution made it easy to spot them.

"This was nice. Everything tonight was wonderful," Molly purred.

It wasn't that her and Arthur's marriage had been unhappy or dull over the past several years. The war and being part of the Order had occupied a lot of their time. Before that, Arthur had been working overtime at the Ministry almost every day and would be exhausted by time he got home. Molly couldn't blame him for that though. He was doing what he had to to provide for his family. A night out was just what she needed, especially after the turmoil from the past few months.

**oOoOo**

Molly slowly blinked her eyes open in the bright morning sun. She let out a contented sigh and snuggled closer to the man beside her. Falling asleep on the hillside near the Burrow was always enjoyable. Although, the hard ground seemed to grow more uncomfortable the older she got.

She breathed in deeply, expecting the scents of the countryside and her husband. Instead, she smelled salt water and…someone else? Then she heard crashing waves and seagulls squawking.

She remembered.

She remembered where she was. She remembered being alone until Conner swept her away. She remembered this _was not her husband_.

Molly sat bolt upright. Conner sat up soon after.

""I'm so sorry! I didn't mean – I - Oh God! We didn't – Or did we?" she fumbled over her words. She didn't think they had done anything, but she needed confirmation.

"No, no! We just fell asleep," Conner assured. "Sorry. I didn't want to wake you."

Calming down, Molly stood and brushed herself off, Conner following. _I was asleep. That doesn't mean anything. I was here. He was here. It was instinct,_ Molly told herself.

"Oh no!"

"What's wrong?" Conner asked.

"What time is it?"

He looked at his watch. "Half past seven."

"Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!" Molly began panicking again. "The kids are coming over for breakfast this morning. They're probably already at the Burrow," she explained, walking further inland.

Conner walked after her. "Molly. Mols –" he used the nickname he had given her a few weeks ago, " – Molly!" He jogged the short distance to get in front of her. Molly stopped. "What are you gonna do? Walk back to Devon?" He chuckled. "Let me take you home."

"Oh, right."

Conner apparated them back into the Burrow.

It seemed neither Bill and Fleur nor Percy were there yet.

"Thank you again for last night. I really did have a wonderful time," Molly said, hugging the Irishman. Conner pecked her on top of the head just as they heard footsteps on the stairs.

They quickly pulled apart. It was too late. Percy and George had already seen. They hadn't done anything wrong, but out of context, Molly was sure it did not look good.

"George?!" Molly exclaimed, beaming. Her middle son was one of the last people she expected to see. After not seeing him for weeks, this was a pleasant surprise.

"Are you just now getting home? With _him_?!" George questioned. Last night, his older brothers had convinced him to come for breakfast. Bill and Percy had reasoned that their mother really hadn't done anything to upset him. The conflict was mainly between Molly and Ginny. If the rift between mother and daughter was to be mended, a rift between George and his mum would not help. So, George decided to give it another shot.

Molly began to explain. "George, we're just –"

"Friends?" George finished for her. "You know how much this hurts dad. How many problems this has already caused between you two."

Bill and Fleur walked in.

"How could you be so inconsiderate?" George continued, ignoring the arrival of his brother and sister-in-law. Why would you do this to him? At least Dad's trying. You know, he hasn't had a drink since Ginny moved in?"

Percy held his tongue. He knew different, but had promise he wouldn't say anything this time. Besides, that tidbit of information would not make this situation any less tense.

"Can you not spend one night alone? What did you do when we were at school and Dad had to work late? Did you have a man over then as well?" George knew he had gone too far now. He knew he should have left without saying a word. Something snapped inside of him when he saw his mum with Conner. He knew full well how his dad felt about that.

"George, settle," Bill warned.

Molly opened her mouth to say something. George cut her off.

"No. I don't want to hear it…I'm done." George disapparated.

Molly heaved a heavy sigh. For a fleeting second, she thought she had her son back. Now, she resolved not to dwell on things she could not control.

"Mum, it was a surprise. I'm sure he didn't mean it," Percy said.

"I'm fine," Molly assured before the question was even asked. For once, she actually meant it. She was finished crying and getting upset. She had to do what made her happy or else she may not be happy for a very long time. "If George wants to be hard-headed like his dad, that's on him. Now, who's ready for breakfast?"

"Molly, I think I should probably go," Conner said. He didn't have anywhere to be since he owled into work, but he didn't want to be an intrusion. He didn't want to cause any more trouble either.

"At least stay for breakfast. We haven't done anything wrong." Bill and Percy shared a skeptical glance. "If George had listened, he would know that."

"Alright," Conner conceded. He found it hard to deny a request from Molly. It didn't take a lot to convince him to spend time with her either; though, he wouldn't admit it to himself or anyone else.

Bill, Fleur, and Percy sat around the kitchen table. Conner helped Molly cook breakfast. After the first few times eating at the Burrow, he always helped her cook. Molly enjoyed it. In the early years of her and Arthur's marriage, Arthur would offer to help every once in a while, but she always turned him down. As the years went by, he would watch the kids while she fixed dinner or would have to work later or would be too tired. Honestly, she couldn't blame Arthur for not helping out in the kitchen.

"Oh," Molly said exasperatedly while attempting to open the package of ham. "Do you think you could open this for me, Conner?" She asked shyly. She could very well open it with her wand or the scissors, but decided to go this route.

"Of course, Mols." Conner opened the package and went back to cracking eggs for the omelettes.

"So where did you go last night?" Bill asked from the table.

"Oh! Conner surprised me and took me to Galway," his mum answered, absolutely beaming. "We went dancing and he showed me the Cliffs of Moher! It was wonderful!" Molly began cutting up the mushrooms.

"Let me," Conner offered. He went to take the knife. His hand gently brushed against hers. "I can finish this up, Mols. Sit and talk with your kids." Their eyes briefly lingered on one another's. Conner tucked a strand of hair behind Molly's ear. "Go on." He nodded to the table with a small smile.

"Well, alright. Thank you" Molly smiled back, blushing slightly.

The boys and Fleur couldn't help but notice this exchange. That was the way their mum used to look at their dad. It had been months. This was not a good sign.

"It sounds like you had fun," Fleur stated.

"It was. I can't remember the last time I've been dancing. We would have been back earlier, but we fell asleep at the cliffs. It completely slipped my mind that you all were coming for breakfast."

"Yeah. We were worried when you weren't here," Percy said.

"I'm sorry, dear. I'll have to leave a note next time, I suppose."

Soon, Conner had finished the omelettes. He served Molly and Fleur first then the boys and himself. The kids didn't have much time to eat before going to work, but Percy told his mum about the wedding date.

Walking in on what they did concerned Percy and Bill. They wouldn't tell anyone that, but it did throw up a red flag for both of them. Up until this point, neither questioned the innocence of their mum's and Conner's relationship. Looking back, the boys noticed how the two had gradually been spending more time together. And that was only what they were aware of. They weren't sure what to think of their mum's new outlook. Was her new resolve a good thing or a bad one? It could mean she was being more positive for her own sake. Or it could mean that she was beginning to move on which would not be good for anyone. If the flirting in the kitchen was any indication, it was the latter.


	27. Forgiveness

Two weeks later, the remainder of the Weasley family was brought together, save Ron and Hermione who would be returning later that week; they had finally found Hermione's parents and restored their memories. Today, the family would celebrate Percy and Ginny's birthdays. Molly was ecstatic when she found out she would be able to celebrate her little girl's birthday. She even managed to convince Charlie to come.

Arthur had arrived early. Papers were spread over the entire kitchen table. He had taken up his new position of department head that Monday. Kingsley had not been exaggerating about the workload. Arthur was thankful for the peace and quiet while the kids were setting up outside for the party. He ignored a floorboard creak as someone entered. It would still be an hour before guests started to arrive.

"Hey," Molly said softly as she sat across from him. An unexpected rush of emotions cascaded over her. Seeing her husband after a month reminded her how much she still loved and missed him.

Arthur glanced up and schooled his features. His wife's appearance did not completely surprise him. Percy had warned him that she and Charlie would be there. However, he did not expect her to approach him. "Hi," he said dismissively. He returned to his work.

"You've gotten a promotion, I hear."

"Yup."

"How have things been with Ginny and Harry living with you?"

"I told you she would be safe, and she is," he said a bit harshly.

"I know. The boys told me you're doing better."

Arthur still didn't look up. "I suppose." This exchange was already tedious. Why was she trying to get information from him if the kids had already told her? There was no other reason for her to speak to him that Arthur could think of.

Molly wanted a two-way conversation. She gently took his writing hand.

Arthur looked up at her. "Do you mind? I'm trying to work."

" _I'm_ trying to talk to you." Molly had planned this conversation. She had played out multiple scenarios in her head. If Arthur was stubborn, it would not go well.

Arthur sat back in his chair, but did not remove his hand from his wife's grasp. Admittedly, it was nice to feel her touch again. Ever since they had separated, he pushed her to the back of his mind in an attempt to convince himself that he didn't miss her.

"Arthur, I am sorry things had to go this way. I hope you know I still love you."

"George, told me what happened," Arthur interrupted quietly.

Molly hesitated. She knew it was a strong possibility that Arthur would find out. However, she never thought he would be the one to bring it up. That wasn't even where this conversation was headed.

"He told me that you were out all night with Collin," Arthur deadpanned.

"Conner," Molly corrected, though this may not have been the best time. "Is that all he said?" She knew Arthur would not have the whole story. She knew what it had looked like, but she and Conner were doing nothing wrong.

"You were hugging him…and he kissed you."

"On the head," Molly reasoned.

"He still kissed you, and you let him."

"That entire situation was out of context."

"Oh, so you didn't flirt with him afterwards?" Bill and Percy had come to him with that information. It was something they felt he needed to know, but not so serious that Molly should tell him herself.

"What? Of course not!" Molly said indignantly. "Or…at least, I don't think so."

"It sure seemed that way to the boys."

"Well, if I did, I did not mean to. You have no idea how lonely I've been, Arthur. I just needed someone to talk to. I wanted to escape from all this mess."

Arthur took his hand back. "Then talk to me," he demanded.

"You have not been willing to talk."

Arthur had to admit she had a point there. "Okay…Talk to Andromeda, or any of our other friends, just _not_ him." His tone became stern. "I told you how I feel about that."

"I thought we were trying to keep this a secret." That was partly why Molly did not talk to anyone else, but she did really enjoy spending time with Conner.

"Tell _The Prophet_ we are having problems. Shout it from the rooftops," Arthur said, temper rising. "I don't care, as long as you _don't_ go near him!"

"Do you not trust me?" Molly asked calmly.

Arthur did not reply. He used to trust her completely. Now, he wasn't sure what to think. It had been a month since they had seen each other. Her "friendship" with Conner seemed to have progressed a lot in that short time. From what his sons had told him, Molly had grown quite fond of Conner.

"Conner and I are good friends. I'm comfortable talking to him. _That is all,_ " Molly claimed.

Arthur stood and waved his wand. All the papers flew neatly into his briefcase. He looked her in the eyes. "Affairs are not always physical, Molly," he stated evenly before leaving her alone at the table.

In the upstairs bathroom, Arthur paced in anger and frustration. He punched the wall. If Molly hadn't spoken to him, he was sure he could have tolerated her being there. For her to approach him and deny anything was going on between her and Conner was absolutely audacious. Arthur took out his flask. He stared at it, contemplating. Over the past two weeks, he had done well with only drinking after the kids had gone to bed. It was barely noon. If he drank, it would calm him down. If he didn't, he was sure he'd blow up. Everyone was so happy he seemed to have things under control, and it was his son and daughter's birthday party. He didn't want to disappoint them. He took a long drink from the flask anyway. This wasn't what he wanted. None of this was what he wanted. What he wanted was for things to go back to normal: Fred wouldn't be dead, he never would have had that one night stand, he never would have hurt the love of his life, the family wouldn't be split, Molly would have never met Conner, he and Molly would still be together in the Burrow happy as ever. He hit the wall again then took another drink. Before going back downstairs, Arthur cast _Reparo_ on the holes, wrapped his bloody knuckles in a bandage – he never was good at healing spells – and cast a Cheering Charm on himself. The charm wasn't strong enough to last more than a half hour, but hopefully, it would last long enough for him to reign in his anger.

George had been looking for his dad when Arthur came downstairs. "Hey, Dad. Could you go pick up the cakes? They weren't ready when we went earlier."

"Sure. Where at?"

"The bakery in Diagon Alley. Thanks." George went back outside.

Molly came in from the kitchen, having heard the exchange. "Here. I'll come with you."

"Why?" Arthur asked sharply.

"You'll need help carrying them," Molly stated matter-of-factly.

"Haven't you done enough?"

"I haven't done anything, actually," Molly answered his double-meaning about the party and about her and Conner.

"You're not going, Molly." Arthur did not move.

Molly passed him, moving to the door. "Either we both go or you can stay here, but you did just tell George you would get the cakes."

It seemed like Molly would go with or without him, and he had said he would pick up the cakes. Arthur had no choice. "Dammit, Molly!" he cursed under his breath, following her out the door.

**oOoOo**

When they apparated in Diagon Alley, they continued their discussion.

"Did George put you up to this?" Arthur asked. He didn't know why George would do such a thing or why Molly would go along with it, but it was worth asking.

"No. He's not even talking to me." Molly walked in the direction of the bakery.

"Why are you doing this then?"

Molly suddenly stopped and turned around. Arthur nearly ran into her. "I thought we should do something together."

"I don't see how that's a good thing right now."

"If we continue avoiding each other, nothing will ever work out. I don't think either of us wants that."

"Things will not work out if you keep seeing that bloke," Arthur stated.

Molly did not respond. She turned around and continued to make her way to the bakery. Arthur followed.

Neither husband nor wife spoke to one another until after they got the cakes. They were almost back to the apparition point when Arthur spoke up.

"It hurts."

Molly stopped and looked at him. She barely heard what he said, but she heard.

"I don't think I've told you this, but…it hurts. It hurts when I see you. It hurts when I think about you. It hurts knowing that you're spending time with and confiding in someone else."

"I didn't know," Molly whispered.

"And I still can't get past what I did to you. I hate myself every day for it. I just want things back how they were."

Molly did not know what to say. This was the most honest her husband had been in months. This is what she had longed for for so long. She had lost all hope that this would happen. So many things had changed. She was speechless.

Molly swallowed the lump in her throat. "People have probably started showing up. We should get back."

Arthur watched her disapparate. He took out his flask and drank from it before apparating back to Shell Cottage. He didn't know what he expected her reaction to be, but he didn't think she would walk away.

**oOoOo**

Guests had already begun to arrive when they got back. The birthday party would not be as large an affair as the engagement party. Only immediate family, Audrey's parents, Aunt Muriel, a few Order members, and some of Percy and Ginny's friends would be there.

Immediately, Arthur had to put up a façade. The Cheering Charm he used had already worn off and it didn't work all that well to begin with. He set the cake down next to the other in the kitchen before heading to the back garden.

Muriel marched up to him as soon as he walked out.

"Ah, so you _are_ here," Muriel stated.

"Of course I'm here. It's my kids' birthday," he shot back.

"What the devil did you do to upset Molly so badly?" she questioned.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"She shoves the cake at me and locks herself in the guest room after coming back from the bakery with _you_. What did you do to her?" she repeated, poking Arthur in the chest.

Instead of responding, he went upstairs where the guest room was. Bill was already there.

Bill looked at his dad. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Arthur muttered. He knocked on the door. "Molly? Molly, will you let us in? Please?"

There was no answer.

"I'll take care of this, Son. You go on outside."

"Are you sure? I can handle this."

"That's fine," Arthur assured. "I think I might know what this is about."

Reluctantly, Bill left his father.

After a few more attempts at getting Molly to open the door, Arthur sat down in the hall. Several minutes passed. He checked to make sure no one was coming then took another swig from his flask. He had just finished eating a mint when Molly opened the door. Arthur stood.

"Oh, you're still here," she said quietly.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Is this about what I said?"

"I wanted honesty. I just wasn't expecting it." Molly wouldn't look at her husband. "I don't think we should talk. During the party, that is." She squeezed past him in the narrow hallway. Arthur watched her descend the stairs.

Molly did her best to be cheery. Her face wasn't red since she used a cooling charm before coming outside. It looked as though most everyone had arrived. Guests had already begun eating on the finger foods. Kingsley approached her with a broad smile.

"Molly, it's nice to see you," he said as they hugged.

"You too, Kingsley. It has been quite a while," she commented.

"I know, and I'm sorry about that. I hope you can forgive me."

"Of course. You're doing a wonderful job with the Ministry." She patted his arm.

"Well, thank you." He grinned. "I hope this promotion isn't taking up too much time from you and Arthur. It should only be for a few months until the department gets settled."

Molly forced a smile. "It's fine. You know how he loves Muggles. Never can get enough of them.'

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "So he's enjoying it? When I asked him to head the department, he wasn't too keen on it. I practically had beg him."

Molly didn't know what to think of this. Quickly, she thought of an excuse. "Well, maybe he was having a bad day."

"Yeah…maybe…" Kingsley said uncertainly. It dawned on him that now may be an opportune time to ask about Arthur. "Is he doing alright? He hasn't seemed like himself recently – Well, for the past several months really."

Molly was unsure of how to answer. For a second, she thought about being honest. Arthur did say he didn't care if other people knew, but there was a stipulation to that. She decided to keep her answer vague. "You know, a lot has changed." She glanced across the garden at Arthur who had come outside soon after she had. "We've…all had to adjust in our own way."

"Well, if either of you need anything, I'll be there."

**oOoOo**

Arthur quickly found himself in a conversation with Hagrid and Charlie. He was hoping to avoid the half-giant, since things had not gone well the last time they had spoken. Arthur sensed the hostility Charlie still held toward him as well. Arthur had immediately asked Hagrid about the new creatures he had gotten in order to postpone talking about himself. That was a good tactic. Hagrid had gone off into long ramblings about each of his "babies." Every now and then he would ask Charlie for confirmation.

"She can be a bit feisty," Hagrid was saying about a Murtlap. "It's jus' because the others pick on her. She's a sweetie at heart. Isn't tha' right, Charlie?"

"Sure is, Hagrid."

Hagrid chuckled. "She actually bit me a few weeks ago. Real nasty bite, that was." A blue serpent-like creature slithered out of one of his pockets. He picked it up. "Oh, yer not supposed to be here. This is little Steve," Hagrid said, showing Arthur the Occamy. "Always doin' that, he is. Sneaks into one of our pockets and goes on his own lil' adventure. Doesn't he, Charlie?"

"Yes, he does, Hagrid." It was obvious Charlie was not happy to be in a conversation with his father. Earlier, Arthur saw him talking animatedly. Now, he said as little as possible.

After what felt like ages, Hagrid had finally finished telling Arthur all about his creatures. Arthur found he actually enjoyed hearing Hagrid's stories. Well, he always had.

"Sorry 'bout that," Hagrid apologized. "I didn't mean to ramble on like that."

"No need to apologize, Hagrid," Arthur assured.

"Anyway, have things gotten better?" Hagrid asked.

"You could say that. I've gotten a promotion and my kids come over for dinner a few times each week." Arthur cast a sideways glance at Charlie. Hagrid didn't seem to notice.

"That's good. So, yeh've gotten everything under control now?"

Arthur scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, yeah, all under control."

"And Molly?" Hagrid ventured.

Up to this point Arthur had been tolerating Hagrid's questions. The half-giant always seemed to poke his nose where it wasn't wanted. "Look, Hagrid, none of this is really your business," he snapped.

Charlie spoke up now. "Is this how you treat everyone who shows concern? That's good to know."

Kingsley approached at that point, plate of finger foods in hand. "Arthur!" he greeted.

"Kingsley," Arthur responded, shaking his hand.

"Ooh." Kingsley grimaced as he noticed the bandage wrapped around Arthur's knuckles. "What happened there?" This brought Hagrid and Charlie's attention to them as well.

"Oh, it's nothing," Arthur waved off the concern. "A little accident."

Charlie glared at Arthur. He had a feeling he knew what had caused the injury. "I knew you hadn't changed," he sneered before stalking off, earning quizzical looks from the other two men.

Before any other questions could be asked, Arthur excused himself and went back into the vacant house. While he took a drink from his flask, Andromeda came downstairs with Teddy. Arthur saw her see him. He quickly put the flask back in his pocket. She didn't say anything.

"Wow. He sure has gotten big," Arthur commented about Teddy, attempting to take the attention off himself.

Andromeda moved so Arthur had a better look. "He has." She smiled then became somber. "He's the only thing that has kept me going since Ted and Dora…"

"I think everyone's needed something to keep them going after this last war."

"Like alcohol?" she deadpanned.

Arthur looked up from tickling Teddy's tummy. "I don't appreciate the insinuation," he said evenly.

"That's not the way to live, Arthur, you know that. You have a huge support system. All you have to do is ask for help. No one will think any less of you."

"How about you deal with things your way and I''ll deal with them mine?" Teddy, whose hair was now red, had a tight grip on Arthur's watch. The man's demeanor softened. "Hey there, little fella," he said softly. "That's not yours. Come on. Let go." He gently coaxed his watch from the giggling baby's grasp. "Thank you." Arthur booped him on the nose.

Muriel saw this. Neither Arthur nor Andromeda had noticed her until she began her snide remarks. "Oh, is this one yours as well? I hope you already told Molly," she quipped.

"No, Muriel. This is Andromeda's grandson, Teddy." Arthur remained calm.

"Well, pardon me," Muriel said sarcastically. "It's only reasonable to assume. You never could keep it in your pants. How else could someone have so many kids?"

"Muriel, stop talking," Arthur warned, passing her.

Instead of stopping, she followed him. "I wonder how many Weasley bastards will be running around in a few months. I'm sure you aren't getting any from Molly."

Arthur should have known she wouldn't stop badgering him even if others were around. When they were outside and she was still going on, he turned around. "You better shut up and leave me alone now or I swear…"

"What? You'll hit me too?" she challenged.

"I _never_ hit her," he snarled.

Molly hurried over from across the garden. Muriel was anything but subtle. "Aunt Muriel –"

"Molly, when are you finally going to divorce him? You've not even spoken to him in a month and it's the happiest I've seen you in ages."

Arthur scoffed. "Is your life so boring that you have to make up stories and harass people?" At least, he hoped she was making this up.

"I just don't like it when my only niece is mistreated, _especially_ by her own husband."

"Muriel, you are causing a scene," Molly hissed. Arthur hadn't noticed that everyone was watching them. That shouldn't be surprising. The garden was not very large and Muriel had not tried to keep her voice down.

"You're a pathetic drunk, you know that?" Muriel accused. She turned to Molly. "What have I always said? 'He likes the booze too much.' Even before you married him. I'm certain that's why you two have always had money problems."

That is not true," Molly stated.

"Why is it that I smelled alcohol when I went inside then? He. Is. A. Drunk." She punctuated the statement to make her point seem more valid.

"I am not a drunk," Arthur interjected.

"That is exactly what you'd say if you were," Muriel said.

"He has quit." Molly looked to Arthur for confirmation, "You _have_ quit, _haven't_ _you_?" as if daring him to say otherwise.

"This is _not_ the time or the place," Arthur said lowly. He knew it would not be helpful if he lied again, but he did not want to discuss it in front of all these people.

Molly took Muriel by the arm and began leading her inside.

"Unhand me!" the old woman protested.

"Arthur!" Molly snapped.

Arthur glared at the garden's occupants before following his wife.

Muriel snatched her arm out of Molly's grasp once they were inside.

"I tried walking away. I did," Arthur said. "Ask Andromeda."

"I believe you, Arthur," Molly replied, not taking her eyes off of her aunt. "That was an entirely new low, Aunt Muriel," she chastised.

"I was defending you. You obviously can't defend yourself."

"That was _attacking_ Arthur, not defending me. Besides, I don't even need defending. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much." She put her hands on her hips. "Now, you need to leave."

Muriel made to protest.

"No, I've tolerated this long enough. You do this at every gathering. Percy's engagement party was one thing, but this is absolutely _unacceptable_. Tell the kids good-bye – Ginny is at the beach with her friends – and then leave," Molly ordered.

Muttering under her breath, Muriel shuffled out to the garden.

"Great! That's just _great_!" Arthur said sarcastically. "Everyone knows now. Why do you have to tell her all of our personal business?"

"Two hours ago, you said you didn't care who knew," Molly pointed out.

"I meant for you to talk to one or two of our closest friends, not for everyone at our kids' birthday party to find out from some insane old woman!"

"What she did was wrong, but that does not give you the right to sink to her level," Molly chided. It was clear she was preparing to go off on a rant.

"Wait," Arthur stopped her. "We both need to take a minute. Muriel got us all worked up. Screaming at each other won't help," Arthur reasoned.

Molly agreed. The couple took a few minutes to cool down. Arthur resisted the urge to drink since Molly was with him. He got a glass of water and leaned against the kitchen table. Molly paced the open area of the kitchen.

"Okay," Molly let out a deep breath. "I'm ready if you are."

"Yeah." Arthur ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry for raising my voice."

"So am I. And I'm sorry about Aunt Muriel. I never thought she would go that far."

Arthur stuffed his hands in his pockets. He looked towards Molly, but not directly at her. "Are you planning on divorcing me?" he asked softly.

"No, I don't intend to," she assured. "You know never to listen to anything Aunt Muriel says." When Arthur didn't say anything else, she repeated her earlier question. "Have you stopped drinking?"

"I had, but…"

"You started back?" she finished for him.

"Yeah." Arthur crossed the kitchen so he was further away from Molly.

"Have the boys been lying to me?"

"No. As far as they know, I'm not drinking. And I haven't lied to them. They haven't asked."

"Your drinking has never been a serious problem before. Why is it now?" Molly asked.

"'Why is it now' what? It still isn't a problem," he claimed then added, "On the contrary, it's a solution."

Molly's eyebrows knit together. She crossed her arms. "Arthur…why do you think I left?" she asked, astonished.

"I lost my temper a few times, but –"

"That was at least a daily occurrence. You were borderline abusive," she stated.

"And I would drink to calm down. It doesn't fix things, but it doesn't cause problems either. It helps," he said.

Molly rubbed her face. She couldn't help wondering if Arthur had been drinking today like Muriel claimed, but she really didn't want to know. "You can't be serious," she breathed.

"I am. It helps."

Molly couldn't believe what her husband was saying. How could he think alcohol was the solution rather than the problem? It had clearly torn his family apart. It had turned him into a different person. His whole life, along with others' lives, was a mess because of it. At one time, she knew Arthur better than anyone in the world, but now, she didn't know what to expect. This time apart was supposed to help them find themselves. It was working for her, but it seemed Arthur had lost himself. She shook her head. "I don't know you."

"Molly –" Arthur began, but she turned away.

"Help me with the cakes," she said.

"Mollywob–"

She cut him off again. "The cakes, Arthur."

No one brought up the incident. They all ignored what had happened between Muriel, Arthur, and Molly. The ones at the beach did not even know anything had happened. Every now and then, Molly would catch herself watching Arthur.

A couple hours later, after cake had been eaten and presents opened, all the guests left. The Weasley kids ran off to the beach, except Charlie who had gone home. Their parents had insisted they would clean up, so Molly and Arthur found themselves alone once again.

After cleaning up, Molly took this opportunity. There was something she wanted to do since she had first gotten there. Arthur was sitting on the garden wall. She came up behind him and gently placed something around his neck.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked, puzzled.

"I wanted to give this to you earlier." She closed the clasp on the necklace.

Arthur picked the knut up in his hand and looked at it. He stood and faced his wife. "I don't want it. It's just a stupid knut."

"You've always put so much stock in this and I thought it was silly. You're right. It is just a knut. It's not lucky. It never was."

"How could you say that?" Arthur huffed, offended.

"You've worn this every day for thirty years. It never stopped anything from happening. As time passes, good things happen, but bad things have to as well. You're views never changed. Not during either war, not when you were working twenty hour days and we could still barely make ends meet, not when you were attacked by that damned snake…not when we lost Gracie," she finished softly.

"If it was never lucky and part of me knew that, why did I wear it every day?"

"That's something you have to figure out yourself."

Arthur stared at the coin and thought for a long moment. His "lucky" knut was never a symbol of luck. It represented love and happiness. When he wore it, it was like Molly was with him.

Molly saw a familiar glimmer in her husband's blue eyes. Before she knew what she was doing, she kissed him. After the initial surprise, Arthur deepened the kiss. Molly suddenly pulled away. She had just found out what she didn't want to know, and it reminded her that he hadn't changed.

"I shouldn't have done that," she fretted. "I forgive you. I do, for everything that's happened these past few months, but –"

"What do you want, Molly?" Arthur interrupted abruptly. He loathed how she kept giving him mixed signals. "You continuously contradict yourself. For once, stop playing games with me," he pleaded.

"I don't know anymore. A few months ago, I would give anything to have you back. Conner was only supposed to help with that. I was upset, and sad, and angry, dwelling on the negative…Conner ignited something in me," she tried explaining.

There was the kicker. From day one, Arthur had told her to stop seeing him. She never listened. The Irishman had always caused more problems between the two of them. Now, he was doing something for Molly that Arthur wasn't given the chance to do. "If you had told me how you felt, I could've tried giving you what you wanted. I could've surprised you with a romantic night out, or a weekend away, or just time together. Whatever you wanted." Arthur had always done his best to support his family. He worked hard. He had always been a loving, attentive husband. He had always been there for his kids whenever they needed him. "You know I would do anything for you," he stated.

"You wouldn't stop drinking for me," Molly calmly pointed out. "Not this time."

"I've done my best. Ever since you came out to the shed, I have tried to stop. Believe me."

"That's beside the point," Molly said. She was not getting into this again. Arthur really had no room to talk when it came to contradicting oneself. "I never told you how I felt because I didn't even know these…." she searched for an appropriate term, "… _desires_ even existed until Conner coaxed them out. Arthur, I'm sorry. I never intended for any of this to happen. This isn't the end of us, I hope. I just need time to explore these new feelings and find myself again…and you apparently need to as well."

Arthur's heart was ripped out. Another man was giving his wife something he never knew she needed. She never even gave him the chance to fulfill those desires. He should have been the one to reveal them to her.

"I stand by what I said earlier," Molly continued. "I'm not planning on a divorce, but at some point, I may have to ask you to make a choice. You can't ask me to stay married to someone who isn't even trying anymore." She knew how much this must be hurting him, but it had to be said.

Arthur glared at her, his jaw tightly clenched and his face slowly turning red. If he said anything, he knew he would regret it. He couldn't stand there another second. After summoning his briefcase, he walked away.


	28. Fraternal Reunion

The late afternoon sun shone brightly over the Cornwall coast. Harry and Ginny played with little Teddy in the edge of the water. Andromeda watched peacefully from where she sat under an umbrella on the warm sand. Fleur and Audrey lay on their stomachs sunbathing nearby. Bill, Percy, and George threw a Quaffle to each other in the chest-deep water.

"I still can't believe Great Aunt Muriel," George said. He lunged to his left to catch the poorly aimed Quaffle from Percy.

Bill huffed. "It seems like she gets barmier the older she gets."

Percy ducked when the Quaffle flew toward him. "You don't think Dad's drinking again, do you?" he asked hesitantly. This question had been nagging him ever since Great Aunt Muriel mentioned it earlier. He swam a few feet backwards to retrieve the Quaffle.

The other two Weasleys seemed to have to think about this for a moment.

"Well, she also said Mum and Dad's financial situation was because 'he likes the booze too much,'" George mocked. "We all know that's not true." He lunged again to catch the ball.

Bill caught the Quaffle from George. "Are you starting to believe what _Great Aunt Muriel_ says?" he asked incredulously. He threw the ball to Percy who dodged it again.

"Seriously, Perce, we were taught from birth not to trust a word that comes outta her mouth." George flipped some wet hair out of his face. "Besides, no one else thought he'd been drinking – Well, they didn't say anything if they had anyway."

"And we'd be able to tell if he was drunk," Bill stated. "Forget about it, Percy. There's nothing to worry about."

For the next little while, the boys threw the Quaffle in silence. They had to reverse directions because playing catch with Percy had always been quite the workout, having to jump in all directions to catch the ball.

The bespectacled redhead couldn't help worrying about what Great Aunt Muriel said. Two weeks ago, he'd caught his father drinking. He'd kept his promise and not told anyone else, but maybe that was a mistake. They all assumed Ginny would mention it if their dad was drinking at home or staying out later than usual. What if she turned a blind eye to it? What if his brothers had caught their dad drinking and made the same promise he had? A sick feeling crept into the pit of his stomach.

_Smack!_

The Quaffle struck Percy square in the face. If he'd been wearing his glasses they would have snapped in two.

"Oops! Sorry, Perce," George apologized sheepishly. He swam over to his older brother. "You alright?"

Percy scrunched up his face and rubbed his nose. "I don't think it's broken, but it bloody-well hurts." He playfully tackled George who fought back. Bill laughed at his two younger brothers. This was the most relaxed he'd seen either of them in a long time. He glanced toward the beach.

"Hey, guys!" Bill gained the attention of his brothers. "We've drifted." They could barely see Andromeda's green umbrella down the beach.

Shoving Percy one last time, George grabbed the Quaffle. The trio walked parallel to the shore, fighting the current.

"So – um – Mum and Dad seemed to be getting on well today," George said nonchalantly.

"I guess," Bill replied, eying his brother. "They didn't yell at each other."

"And they spent some time alone together," Percy added.

"She defended him, too."

"They didn't _really_ talk though," George debated.

"They could've when they were alone."

"They could've yelled at each other when they were alone," George pointed out.

Bill stopped. "Where is this coming from?"

"Nowhere," George shot defensively. Neither of his older brothers responded, knowing he would soon divulge what he was thinking. He fingered a piece of seaweed floating by. "I miss Mum, alright?" he said quietly.

"Okay…then talk to her," Percy advised. "She's been waiting for you to cool down and come back on your own."

"No, I'm still angry with her, for what she's doing to Dad. I just want this shite to be over with. I miss us as a family. I know nothing can bring Fred back, but…his death should've brought us closer together, not split us. Fred wouldn't have wanted any of this to be because of him. I mean, Charlie wouldn't even look at me today if he could help it."

"We all hate it, George"

"Yeah, and it may not even be because of Fred. If anyone knows what caused this, it's Mum and Dad," Percy stated.

The brothers finally reached the point where they had drifted from. Harry and Ginny were now letting Teddy throw some sand around. Fleur and Audrey were waste-deep in the water. It looked like Andromeda had fallen asleep. The boys spotted their dad walking across the beach with his briefcase. Arthur motioned for them to come in. Apparently, he called for Ginny because she left Teddy with Harry and walked toward him.

A few minutes later, they reached the beach. Jogging out of the water, George shouted, "Oi!" and tossed the Quaffle to his dad who easily caught it with one hand. "Come on, old man! Get rid of that briefcase and put your swim trunks on."

Arthur looked as if was going to explode. He hadn't calmed down between the house and the beach. On the contrary, he had made himself even more upset, continuously turning over what Molly said in his mind for the entirety of the fifteen minute walk.

"Alright, sorry," George mumbled, thinking his father's red face was because he called him an 'old man.' "Can I have the ball back?"

Arthur held onto the Quaffle. He didn't say anything until Bill and Percy caught up. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I have a lot of work left. I'd appreciate it if Ginny and Harry could stay with one of you tonight."

"Sure," "Okay," and "Yeah," came from his sons. His daughter, however, wasn't so easily convinced.

"Why?" Ginny asked. "We won't bother you. You've not had any issues with us all week."

"No, but I still have a lot to do by Monday, and I'd rather be able to focus solely on it. I'll be in the office until late tonight. I don't need to be worrying about you," he argued.

"You don't have to worry about me," Ginny debated. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"You are staying with your brother, and that is final!" Arthur snapped. Andromeda sat up abruptly. Harry tried calming Teddy down as the baby began to cry.

Ginny shrunk away a little. "Okay, okay," she conceded.

"Let me know who they're staying with," Arthur directed at his sons. "I'll see you tomorrow." A few seconds later, he disapparated.

Bill suddenly remembered his dad telling him he was almost done with the paperwork earlier this afternoon. There was one reason Bill could think of that would cause his dad to lie about that. The sick feeling that had made its home in the pit of Percy's stomach now made its home in the pit of Bill's as well.

Bill, Percy, and George shared a meaningful glance. None of them wanted to admit it, but Great Aunt Muriel may not have been wrong this time.

Bill was about to tell Ginny they could stay at Shell Cottage, but George beat him to it. "Ginny, you and Harry can stay with me tonight," George offered.

Ginny accepted and went back to Harry who had passed Teddy off to Andromeda.

"Should we…?" Percy trailed off.

"Yeah." Bill answered the unfinished question.

The trio told the others they would be back in a little while before walking back to Shell Cottage. On their way, they ran into their mum. She didn't appear to be upset, not like their father at least.

"Bill, if you don't need anything else, I think I might head home," Molly said.

"That's fine, Mum. Thanks for helping out." He gave her a hug.

"Happy birthday, Percy!" she said, giving him a bear hug.

George watched her warily. He let his guard down when she told him good-bye, but didn't try to hug him.

Molly continued her path to the beach. The boys continued theirs to the house. After changing, they apparated to their dad's flat. Arthur was not there. A small ray of hope shone. Perhaps, he really was at the Ministry. However, when they reached his new office, he wasn't there either. The third place they tried was the bar he frequented in Diagon Alley.

Their hearts sank when they saw their dad sitting on his usual bar stool.

After regaining their composure and putting on an air of confidence, they approached the bar on either side of their father. They all ordered firewhisky, seeing as that was their dad's drink of choice. Arthur tried ignoring them. He didn't really care anymore if they knew he was drinking again, not at this moment at least.

"Told you 'work' was a code word, George." Percy held out his hand, and George dropped a Galleon in it

"Well, Dad, you should've said you were taking us out for Percy's birthday," Bill said. "You know, Ginny is old enough to drink the strong stuff now. We should've brought her along," he said as a sort of afterthought.

Arthur downed the rest of his drink.

"How many is that now, Dad? Three? Four?" George asked. "Seems we have some catching up to do."

The bartender came by with the boys' drinks and refilled Arthur's without having to be asked. He scoffed. "This'll be his seventh. Not unusual for 'im though."

George let out a low whistle. "Prob'ly a good thing we didn't bring Ginny, Bill. She wouldn't be able to keep up."

So, the way they approached their father's drinking this time was a bit unorthodox. None of their other tactics worked in the past, so maybe a guilt trip would. They were running low on options.

Finally, Arthur spoke. "What are you boys doing here?" he asked lowly.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Percy retorted.

"We thought we had the old you back," George said.

"You thought wrong," Arthur replied sharply.

"Dad, take this potion and come with us." Bill set the purple vial in front of him. "Let's go home and talk about this," he reasoned.

Arthur went to take another drink.

"Don't do this to Ginny," Percy pleaded.

"Take another sip, and she comes to live with me," George warned.

A pang of guilt penetrated Arthur's self-hatred. "Leave her out of this," he begged.

"We know what Fred would think, but what would Gracie think right now?" George ventured sensitively.

The lump in Arthur's throat seemed to double in size. He gritted his teeth, and his jaw muscle quivered. He was already angry with himself, and his sons were not helping in the slightest. He never wanted to hurt or disappoint anyone, but he already felt like the time for redemption had long passed. With what he had done that summer and with what Molly had said that afternoon, he despised himself. Drinking took all that pain away. Arthur's hand shook as he debated what to do next. He didn't want to lose his daughter, but he didn't want to feel this pain either.

"Gracie wouldn't want this," George answered his question softly, placing a hand on his father's shoulder.

George quickly found out that was a mistake. Arthur downed the rest of his drink, slammed the glass down, and took a swing at his son. George barely dodged it. Arthur stumbled, but caught himself on a nearby table. He turned to face his son. "Do not talk about her! YOU _NEVER_ TALK ABOUT HER AGAIN!" he roared, his face redder than his hair. Tears silently streamed down his cheeks. "You have no clue what she would want! You didn't even know she existed until a few months ago, so do _not_ act like you know her! _NO ONE_ KNEW HER!" he cried out in agony.

"I'm sorry!" George apologized, hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that!"

"Oi!" the bartender exclaimed. "Take this somewhere else!"

Arthur glared at him. "No, I'm a paying customer and I'm not even close to finished." He wiped angrily at his cheeks, pushed past his sons, and reclaimed his seat.

The bartender turned to Bill. "I want all four of ya out! You got two minutes. And make sure he doesn't come back." He jabbed his thumb toward Arthur.

"Dad, let's go." Bill grabbed his arm.

Arthur snatched his arm out of Bill's grasp. Seeing that he was not going to be served, Arthur drank George's and Percy's firewhiskies, each in one go. He didn't notice that Bill's glass no longer contained firewhisky. Instead, Arthur drank the Sober-Up Potion before realizing it.

"Come on." Bill and George both grabbed their father and dragged him outside. Percy stayed behind a moment to apologize and pay for the drinks.

As soon as they apparated into his flat, Arthur collapsed on the couch. He rested his head in his hands and stared at the floor, taking deep breaths. For several minutes, his sons watched him warily. None of them had seen their dad that upset; they had never seen _anyone_ that upset.

George made the first move. He sat next to Arthur. "Dad –" he began softly, placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

" _Don't_." Arthur spat.

George quickly stood and backed away. "Okay."

The room became silent once again. The young men waited for their father to make the next move. Eventually, George took a seat on the coffee table, and Bill and Percy silently looked through the kitchen cabinets. They didn't find anything that shouldn't have been there.

Arthur finally spoke with a defeated tone. "I already felt like shite. Then you had to use her against me." He sat up and rubbed his face then sent George a piercing gaze. "You know how I feel about her," he said, barely audible.

"I truly am sorry, Dad," George apologized again. "I didn't mean it that way. I was only trying to talk you down. I thought that would work. I was wrong…I was wrong to bring her up like that."

Arthur leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes.

Percy bent over and picked up a scrap of paper near the bin on his way back over. He glanced at it then showed it to Bill.

Bill pulled out his wand. " _Accio firewhisky_."

Arthur's eyes shot open as he sat bolt upright. "Stop!" he commanded.

It was too late. The flask from Arthur's pocket and five bottles of firewhisky flew out from their hiding spots – one which was nearly empty from behind the couch, another from on top of the cabinets, one from the back of a cluttered cabinet, one from the bathroom, and one which was mostly full from the bedroom where Ginny and Harry stayed. They landed neatly on the coffee table next to George.

The boys' eyes widened in amazement, but they were not amused. They had not expected this. All color drained from Arthur's face.

"You said you stopped carrying this," Percy said, picking up the flask and looking inside of it.

"I did," Arthur answered honestly. "I had it today just in case."

"What?" Bill asked.

"Just in case I couldn't deal with your mother," he said sourly.

" _Did_ you drink today?" Percy questioned.

"I don't see why that matters. Nothing happened."

" _Did you drink today_?" Percy repeated.

"Would you rather I have blown up?"

"That's a 'yes' then," George stated bitterly.

"The one time Great Aunt Muriel is right," Bill mumbled. "Care to explain the rest?" he prompted.

Running a hand through his hair, Arthur sat back on the couch again. "It was buy one, get one half price. I bought them a while back," he half-lied.

Percy held up the receipt from the floor. "You bought them two days ago, on the twentieth." He crumpled up the paper and tossed it toward Arthur. Percy crossed his arms. "How long has this been going on?" Ever since he had caught his dad drinking two weeks ago, Percy had his reservations.

"Er…" Arthur faltered. He focused on the bottles in front of him. "Not quite two weeks."

"You said that was a one-time thing – that it wouldn't start this cycle again. I shouldn't have believed you."

Bill and George looked at Percy quizzically.

"Apparently, he couldn't resist some Scotch when he met with Minister Shacklebolt about the promotion," Percy explained.

Bill and George felt a little betrayed at this revelation. Why wouldn't Percy tell them about that? It was something they should have known about.

George picked up and inspected the almost-empty bottle next to him. "You've been drinking while Ginny's here?"

"Only after they've gone to bed," Arthur answered honestly. "Most of that one's in the flask…Please don't tell Ginny," he begged.

"Why shouldn't we?" Percy challenged.

"Because, I don't know what I'd do if she turned her back on me. I hate disappointing her. She's my little girl." He gestured to the bottles on the table. "This was a mistake." He tried playing it off like it wouldn't happen again.

"It's always a mistake. That never stops you," Percy pointed out.

"This was more than a lapse of judgement," Bill stated. "Buying five bottles of firewhisky indicates you had _no_ intention of stopping."

"Five?" Arthur repeated with furrowed eyebrows. He counted the bottles. "No, I only had four and the flask."

"Stop lying."

"Why would I confess to four bottles and lie about the fifth?"

"He has a point, Bill," George said.

"Didn't this one come from the bedroom?" Percy asked, picking up the mostly-full bottle.

"Ginny wouldn't," Bill said, trying to convince himself.

"Wouldn't she?" George countered, having known his sister better than Bill did.

 _Ginny should know better,_ Bill thought, _after everything we've been through_. Before he could work himself up too much, Bill said, "Why don't we ask her? I'll be back in a few minutes." Bill forcefully closed the door behind him then a pop of disapparition resounded throughout the building.

Arthur pinched his nose and tightly shut his eyes. He took in a deep breath. He wished Bill would have discussed it with him before he stormed off. He was exhausted as it was. He had no energy to deal with any of this right now. If Ginny had been drinking, he had no idea what he would do. And what if Molly somehow found out? She would never trust him to watch her.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Bill came back with Ginny and Harry in tow. It was clear he hadn't told them what this was about.

Ginny surveyed the room. She spotted the firewhisky on the table. "What's going on?" she asked uncertainly.

Bill made to speak, but halted when Arthur stood. He was her father. It was his responsibility to parent her. He picked up the aforementioned bottle from amongst the others. It dawned on Arthur that they should have put the others away before Ginny and Harry got there. "What is this?" he asked his daughter.

"Out of everyone here, I thought you'd be the one to know," Ginny tried joking.

Her untimely joke was met with scowls from her father and all three of her brothers.

She shrugged. "I'm seventeen. It's legal."

"That does not matter, Ginevra Molly Weasley. Why do you have it?"

Picking up on the seriousness of the situation, Ginny complied, "I bought it because I can. It's just for fun."

Arthur turned to Harry who shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Harry, did you know about this?" he asked.

Harry didn't make eye contact. "Yes, sir," he mumbled.

"And did you partake?"

"A little."

"Did you encourage this?"

"No, sir. I-I didn't think it was a good idea."

The older man addressed his daughter again. "Look, I understand you want to experiment with the freedoms that coming of age brings, but if you want to have fun, go to the pub with some friends and have a drink or two." He lifted the bottle of firewhisky. "But you _do not_ buy a bottle and hide it in your room."

"This is exactly why it was in my room. I knew you would overreact…or else drink it all," she added under her breath, arms crossed. Those last four words did not go unnoticed. For Arthur, it stung. For her brothers, they subconsciously admitted she had a point.

"He's not overreacting," all three of her brothers defended Arthur. This unplanned simultaneous response shocked them all.

"All the guys had alcohol in the house when they turned seventeen," Ginny argued. She still could not see why her dad was being so hard on her compared to her brothers.

"Not me," Percy corrected.

Ginny shot him a look that said "Yeah, but you're you," then she addressed the room, "Can you all chill? If one of the guys was caught, no one took it this seriously – Well, except maybe Mum, but that's _Mum_."

The tips of Arthur's ears slowly grew red. "This is different."

"Why?" Ginny interrupted. "Because I'm a girl?"

"No," Bill stepped in. "It's about timing, and circumstances, and what we know now."

"And what's that, Son?" Arthur shot.

Bill did not want to be the one to tell his father this, but it was time. "Let's face it, Dad…You're an alcoholic. We've given you the benefit of the doubt, but it's time to face facts. You're just like Grandpa."

"No, I'm not, and I am _nothing_ like Septimus. I can quit when I want," Arthur claimed although he knew most of that was a lie.

"Says the four fifths of Ogden's," Percy quipped.

Arthur glared daggers at his sons for a moment before stating, "This is not about me."

"I'm not Dad," Ginny told Bill.

"Look at Grandpa Septimus, who we were never allowed to see, I might add. Look at Uncles Billius, Trent, and Neil – Not to mention a half dozen of our cousins. Are you starting to see a pattern here?"

"To be fair, we have, like, at least twenty cousins," George reminded.

Bill cast a sideways glance at his brother. " _My point being_ , do you really think they all wanted their lives to revolve around drinking? Do you really think Dad planned on it shattering this family?"

"I'm right here," Arthur interjected.

"You know, it's only a matter of time before it kills them like it did Grandpa and Uncle Billius? Do you think that's what they want?"

Percy grabbed his older brother's arm. "Bill."

"What if Great Aunt Muriel was right and we've always been poor because Dad spent that money on booze? Or all those late nights 'working,' he was actually getting drunk?"

" _Bill_." Percy forcefully spun Bill toward him.

"I'm only giving examples as to _why_ this is so serious and _why_ she should be careful," Bill explained. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his father was red in the face again, but this time he had fixed him with a death stare as well.

"If you have a problem, you talk to me. Do not go shooting it off at your sister," Arthur said coldly. "If you can't keep your opinions to yourself and let me discipline my daughter, you need to leave."

Bill had to admit he may have crossed a line, but he wouldn't apologize for what he said. He stepped into the kitchen.

"Alright." Arthur took a deep breath. "Ginny, you're grounded."

"You can't do that!" she protested.

"Yes, I can. I am your father. You are living under my roof," Arthur asserted.

"I'm seventeen now. You never said I couldn't have it."

"I shouldn't've had to! Since you remember your brothers getting in trouble for it, then you knew better."

Ginny was in a corner. Her dad was right. She knew better, and she made that known moments ago. There was no playing dumb.

"You go straight to work and come straight home for the next week. George will send me your schedule. I'll be sure to be home right at five. If I'm not able to, you'll stay with him until I get off."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" George stood from his spot on the coffee table.

Arthur stared at him.

"I'll make sure her punishment is carried out, but she's not living with you anymore."

"Why not?!" Ginny challenged.

Arthur continued staring at his son. He didn't expect George to carry out his threat, and Arthur thought he was convincing when he said drinking again was a mistake. Losing his daughter was the last thing he wanted. Couldn't his sons show _some_ sympathy?

"Are you going to tell her or will I have to?" George asked.

"That was never a stipulation when she moved in," Arthur reminded. When Ginny and Harry moved in, it was never approved by his sons. It didn't have to be. Most importantly, no one said he couldn't drink while she lived there.

"She still ought to know," Percy chimed in.

Arthur didn't make a move. He couldn't see the disappointment in his daughter's eyes when he told her.

When he realized his dad wasn't going to say anything, George said evenly, "Dad's drinking again."

Ginny scoffed. "That's it? I've probably known longer than any of you have."

"And you didn't tell us?" Bill asked incredulously from the kitchen.

Ginny shrugged. "Didn't see a need to."

"How long have you known?" Percy asked.

"A week?" she replied. She looked to Harry for confirmation. He nodded.

"Harry knew?" George asked incredulously.

"It wasn't my place to say anything," Harry responded.

After remaining silent through this exchange, Arthur finally spoke to his daughter. "How did you know?" he asked quietly.

"I don't stay in my room all night. Ya know, I get hungry or have to use the bathroom or whatever. Plus, sometimes the bottle is still out when I wake up, or you smell like alcohol in the morning." She wasn't making accusations, only stating facts.

"Oh." Arthur thought he had been careful, taking extra precautions so she wouldn't find out. He was obviously mistaken. However, if she stayed and didn't say anything after she found out, maybe all hope wasn't lost. "So…um…" He swallowed, afraid of what her answer might be. "Me or George?"

Ginny looked at him like he was stupid. "You, of course." She crossed the room and hugged him. "I'm not gonna leave just because you're going through a rough time."

"Ginny, that is not a good idea," George warned.

"You're just jealous because I didn't choose you."

Her brothers hated being the bearers of bad news, but Percy spoke up. "He took a swing at George, _an hour ago_."

For a split second, shock crossed her face. She quickly composed herself. "Was that unprovoked?"

George, Percy, and Bill suddenly had an intense interest in their shoes.

"Exactly."

Arthur picked up the bottle that was nearly empty. He took the cap off. What was left was gone in a second. The warmth soon coursed through his body. The emotional torment Molly had brought upon him seemed to have doubled in the hour he was sober. He had tried waiting until he was alone again. Now that everyone knew he was drinking again, and there were no consequences, and Ginny was okay with it, it didn't matter. It was only a matter of time before the pain would be numbed. "Are we done here?" he asked his sons.

George's eyebrows knit together. "What happened to you?" he asked, disturbed.

"Ask your mother," Arthur spat. "None of this would have happened if it wasn't for her."

With that, the boys took their leave. Ginny and Harry stayed behind.

Out in the hall, George crossed his arms. "So, now what?"

"What do you mean?" Bill responded.

Gesturing to their father's apartment door, he asked, "How are we gonna fix this?" He was optimistic Bill would have a plan. Bill always had a plan.

"We're not."

"We're not gonna just let him…He's not himself when he drinks."

"It's not like he's been himself when he's sober either," Percy commented.

"We did what we could. If he wants to drink, he's gonna drink, George. Now, it's on him," Bill said.

George's face began to get red, but not out of anger. His brown eyes shone brightly. The same sick feeling that made its way into Percy's and Bill's stomachs had suddenly nested in his. "We didn't just lose Fred, did we?" he asked softly. Fred was dead; there was nothing they could do about that. Their dad seemed to prefer being drunk all the time. George had intentionally pushed his mother away. Charlie and Ron had made the choice not to have anything to do with him. The loneliness and guilt he'd been ignoring for months suddenly came upon him tenfold.

"That's how it looks, George," Bill said gently. "I'm sorry."

George took a deep breath and frowned. "Am I stupid for thinking this whole fucking thing would blow over and acting like nothing's changed?" he exploded. This gave his brothers a start.

"I think most of us were fooling ourselves, George," Percy said.

"I don't think Ginny has come to that realization yet. When she does, we need to be there for her," Bill said sadly. He looked at the door and ran a hand through his long, red hair. "I have a few questions for Mum. If you two want to come with me…"

"Sure."

George stuffed his hands in his pockets. He stared at his shoes once again. "I don't think she'd want to see me."

"She would love to see you, George."

**oOoOo**

Three pops of apparition resounded throughout the Burrow. Molly hurried into the sitting room to find three of her sons standing there. This was a bit unexpected, but George being with them was surprising.

"H-hi, Mum," George stuttered.

Molly stared at her middle son in disbelief.

Taking a step back, George shoved his hands in his pockets and slouched. "I-I…uh…understand if you don't want anything to do with me," he mumbled. "I guess I've been a bit of a twat lately. I'm sorry. Well – I mean – Don't get me wrong, I'm still upset with how you've been treating Dad, but…I miss you, and I _am_ sorry for how I've acted." He chanced a glance up at his mum. In a split second, red curls engulfed his face as she enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug.

"I knew you'd be back. You don't need to apologize. You were doing what you thought was right." She finally let him go. "Why don't you all stay for dinner? I just popped it in the oven."

A high-pitched whistle erupted from the tea kettle in the kitchen, signaling the water was boiling. Molly bustled into the kitchen, her sons close behind. A thick tension quickly grew when Charlie saw the new arrivals and vice versa.

"What are they doing here?" Charlie asked his mum.

She took the kettle off the stove. "I'm guessing they've come for a visit," she replied, only realizing then that they had not told her why they had come.

"I'll grab something on the way home." Charlie began putting on his travelling cloak.

"Nonsense!" Molly exclaimed. "We are all eating together."

"No, I don't want to be near those two," he said, referring to Percy and George. He still had no problem with his older brother. He opened the back door.

" _Charles Aiden Weasley_! You take that cloak off and sit down this instant," Molly ordered. "And you three," she gestured to her other sons.

Hastily, they all obeyed. There was nothing more frightening than their mother's temper, not even dragons.

"Now," she put her hands on her hips, "I am sick of all this. There is absolutely no reason for you not to talk to each other. Percy and George have done nothing to you, and neither has Ginny," she told Charlie. "Every time I see you, you ask about them. You always say how lonely you are, how much you miss them. It is well past time to fix that."

Charlie interrupted, "I can't support what they're doing. Arthur –"

"He is your father, whether you like it or not, and you will address him as such." Molly tutted. "I still _cannot_ believe you – you…" she searched for a term; there was only one she could come up with, "… _disowned_ him like that. You _and_ Ron. I can't imagine how your father felt."

"Fine!" Charlie said. " _Father_ does not deserve their support after what he did."

"Just because you don't agree with your siblings does not mean you disown them too. You still love each other, you are still family, and I am tired of hearing you whine about regretting it. Now, apologize - all three of you." Mumbled apologies were exchanged around the table. Clapping her hands together, Molly asked, "Alright, who wants tea?"

There was some awkward conversation leading up to, and then throughout, dinner. It would take time for the brothers to interact normally again. Talking was the first step. Molly would see to it that her boys would soon be on good terms. After she sorted this, she would still have Ron and Ginny to deal with, she was sure.

Once all the dishes were cleaned and put away, they moved into the sitting room. Some tension returned to the atmosphere.

"Mum," Bill began, "we didn't come only for a visit…"

"We have a few questions," Percy admitted.

Molly looked at her folded hands resting in her lap. She sighed. "It was only a matter of time." She looked at her sons. "Go ahead."

Bill cleared his throat. "Has Dad always had a drinking problem?" he asked quietly.

His mother shook her head and answered just as quietly, "Not like this. Never like this." She took a deep breath. "We always watched it. With the way his family is, we made sure to keep a close eye on his drinking. If he started drinking too much or too often, I would point it out, and he would cut back or stop completely for a while. It never caused any problems."

"What about money? Is that why we've always been so poor?"

Molly looked slightly amused when she shook her head this time. "Our only source of income was a low-paid government official's salary. The cost of living increased, and he barely got a pay raise. We had seven children. You'll see how expensive things get when you have kids."

Admittedly, that made much more sense. Great Aunt Muriel was still a lying old bat after all.

Since they were asking questions, Charlie took this opportunity to ask his own. "Has he been violent in the past?" he ventured, afraid he might get an answer he didn't want. If his father had always been belligerent, he would never be able to look at him the same way.

"No, absolutely not."

"Why was this time different?" Percy asked gently.

"I've been asking myself that same question. It's like he didn't want to listen." She thought back to Arthur's outburst in the shed all those months ago. "Maybe it was a combination of everything. Maybe…I waited too long to say anything." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Please, don't think any less of your father," she pleaded. "This is not him. I've _never_ known this side of him."

"He's hurting, Mum. Bad." George swallowed. "He blames you. At least, that's his excuse tonight."

Molly's heart ached. She knew that was a valid excuse in this case. "For tonight, he may have a point," she admitted. She felt a pang of guilt. "I didn't want to hurt him, but I stated facts."

"Are you finally leaving him for good?" Charlie asked. Part of him secretly hoped she would wash her hands of Arthur.

"No."

"What did you say to him?" George questioned.

"It is none of our business," Percy interrupted. Of course, he wanted to know what had transpired as much as anyone else, but that was between their parents.

"Is Ginny with him tonight?" Molly asked.

Bill, Percy, and George nodded.

"Good." Molly figured if he had his daughter with him, things might be easier.

"No. Dad found out she was okay with him drinking, so now he's not hiding it from her anymore," Bill informed.

"Even I'm afraid he's going to hurt her," George said. Bill and Percy nodded in agreement. However, they needn't worry about their sister that night. An hour after they left the flat, their dad was passed out on the couch. When he would periodically wake up, he'd take another swig of Ogden's before falling back to sleep.


	29. Drowning

The weekend finally came for Percy and Audrey's wedding. Headmistress McGonagall allowed Hermione and Ginny to use the Floo in her office after class that Friday. While Hermione went to the Burrow, Ginny went to her dad's flat.

It wasn't quite time for Arthur to get off work yet, so Ginny let herself in. Empty bottles and takeaway containers littered every surface. Crumpled, brown paper bags overflowed from the bin. If the flat looked this bad, Ginny couldn't help wondering how her dad was. Getting her to leave for Hogwarts was almost a fight because she was worried what would happen to him.

" _Alright, Sis?" George asked, leaning against a shelf Ginny was stocking before the shop opened._

" _Alright."_

" _Dad, give you money for your school stuff?"_

" _Yep."_

" _Well, why are you here instead of shopping?" George questioned. "Tomorrow's September 1_ _st_ _."_

" _Because, I'm not going," she replied nonchalantly. She continued stocking the shelf as if what she had said was nothing major._

 _George couldn't believe what she said. "I take it you haven't discussed it with Dad, since he gave you money_ for school supplies _," he stressed. "When were you planning on telling him?"_

" _I'm giving the money back. I figure if I wait until he gets home from work tomorrow, there's nothing he can do. The train will have already arrived at Hogwarts."_

 _George stopped his little sister from stocking. Siblings' brown eyes stared into each other. "I don't blame you if you don't want to go because of last year and the battle, but you need to talk to Dad tonight. Don't spring this on him tomorrow. That will_ not _go over well," he warned._

_Ginny rolled her eyes and went back to stocking. "It's not that. I think I could handle that."_

_George made her look at him again. "Why don't you want to go?"_

" _Dad needs me," was her simple answer._

_George huffed. "There's nothing you can do. Missing your last year of school will only hurt you."_

" _It didn't hurt you and Fred." Ginny gestured around them._

" _That's different. We already had a business going." George scratched his head. "Look, Bill, Percy, and I have discussed it. After you leave, we're not going to Dad's for dinner near as much._ Maybe _once every other week, but that's a strong maybe. None of us want to be around him right now."_

_Ginny gaped at her brother. A few weeks ago, they had all assured their dad they would come over often. Now they were going back on their word? How could they do that? "That gives me more reason to stay," Ginny countered._

_Blowing out a long breath, George left his sister. The bell tinkled as the door opened and shut behind him. Ten minutes later, he found himself outside of his dad's new office. He knocked._

" _Come in!" Arthur was a bit surprised to see his son enter. "Is everything okay?" he asked, concerned._

_George hesitated. "Sort of. When are you taking lunch today?"_

" _I wasn't planning to, but if you need something, I can take a break around noon."_

_George nodded. "Yeah, that'd be great. You need to come to the shop and talk to Ginny."_

" _I can come now if she needs me," Arthur quickly responded._

" _No, noon is fine," George assured._

_Three and a half hours later, Arthur entered the joke shop. The crowd made it difficult to find either his son or his daughter. He fiddled with his necklace as he looked for them. Finally, he spotted George coming out of the back room, hands full. George passed the Puking Pastilles off to Verity. A few minutes later, the Weasley men found Ginny and were in George's office._

" _You got Dad?" Ginny asked indignantly._

 _George shrugged. "I could've gotten Mum." No one wanted to be part of_ that _conversation. "So, do you want me to tell him what you said?"_

_Ginny crossed her arms. Not making eye contact, she told her dad, "I'm done with school. I'm not going back." She braced for the explosion that was bound to come. It didn't._

_Arthur thought for a moment. He had been wondering if Ginny would be able to go back to Hogwarts after everything that had happened last year. It was perfectly reasonable. If she couldn't handle it, he wasn't going to put her through that. He shrugged. "Okay."_

" _Aren't you going to give him your reason?" George prompted._

" _I'm staying here because," she faltered before finishing softly, "you need me."_

 _Arthur immediately responded. "No. No. If that's the reason, then_ no _. You are finishing your last year."_

" _But –"_

"No, buts _. You are not throwing away your education because you_ think _I need you. We've been through this before. I've lived by myself without any problems. I actually prefer it," he lied. Having Ginny live with him was the best thing that had happened since the war ended, albeit he was drunk most nights now. He fought so hard to have his little girl with him because she made things the tiniest bit easier. However, he knew she would eventually have to leave. He knew if he let her know how much he_ did _need her, she would never leave. "I'll see you get on that train tomorrow."_

While Ginny was at school, they corresponded every other day, just as much as she and Harry wrote each other.

Ginny set her bag down on the couch. She noticed a stack of letters she had sent scattered on the coffee table. Taking in the sight before her one more time, she banished all the garbage. The letters remained, but moved into a neat stack.

Too impatient for her dad to get home, Ginny Flooed to the Ministry. However, she still had to wait because Arthur was in a meeting.

All Heads of Office for the Department of Muggle Relations as well as a senior Auror and a few others were seated around the table in the conference room. Arthur sat at the head of the table, his secretary in the seat nearest him. The department's weekly meeting was beginning to wrap up.

"No," Arthur said. "She charmed half a dozen automobiles to drive themselves _with Muggles in them_ in the center of London. It caused eight wrecks – half of those major. How many Muggles needed Obliviating, Sullivan?" he asked, scanning over the file in front of him.

"One hundred and fifty-eight, sir," Sullivan, the Head of Obliviator Headquarters, answered.

"There are over two dozen witnesses – magical and Muggle – who confirm she was acting suspiciously around those vehicles. She even _confessed_ after she was arrested," Arthur stressed.

"Well, she's recanting now," Perkins, the new Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, informed. He became somber. "Arth-" He cleared his throat, catching his mistake. "Sir…she claims she was Imperiused."

Time seemed to stand still. So many people had used that excuse after both wars. Some were lying, some were telling the truth. With several dark wizards still loose, it was a very real possibility that she had been Imperiused.

Clearing his throat, Arthur glanced down then looked to the Auror heading the case. "Was she showing any signs when you appeared on the scene?"

"Not that I noticed, sir," Johnson replied. "She is part of the Thurkell family, so I wouldn't be surprised if she did this of her own accord."

Arthur scratched his beard. "Thurkell…Why does that sound familiar?"

"The Thurkells are one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. While they did not align directly with Voldemort, they have shown purist sentiments and discrimination against Muggles."

Arthur nodded. "Look into it more. Make sure she knows that if she sticks to the Imperiused story and we find out she's lying, the consequences will be _much_ worse. Do we have anything else to discuss on this matter?"

"No, sir," his secretary answered. "The last order of business for today is the Murtlap in the Muggle village in Cornwall."

Arthur took a deep breath. Whenever a beast was involved with Muggles in some way, the same man always answered to him – The one man Arthur despised more than anyone else, even more than Lucius Malfoy. "McGrath…" he addressed the Irishman, "where is the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures on this?"

"We are still looking for it, sir," Conner McGrath answered.

"Why has it not been caught yet?" Arthur asked sternly, as if it was purely Conner's fault they hadn't captured the creature. "In the past three days, it has bitten five Muggles. Does that not raise some concern for urgency?"

"We are working on it, sir. Murtlaps are not the easiest creatures to find. As for the Muggles, they have been remedied and their memories modified."

Arthur shut the folder in front of him hard. "Catch it by Monday," he ordered, standing with the folder. "Dismissed," he told the group as he exited the conference room.

Kingsley was waiting for him outside, but Arthur didn't slow down. Kingsley followed.

"What is it, Kingsley?" Arthur asked curtly.

"We need to talk, in private…and there's a visitor in your office," Kingsley finished as they approached Arthur's office. The walk from the conference room was extremely short. The conference room was only across a large, open area from Arthur's office.

Sitting behind his desk was his daughter with her feet propped up, linking paperclips together into a six-foot long chain. "What are you doing?" Arthur asked, not amused in the slightest.

"I was bored, but on the bright side, you won't lose your paperclips now!" Ginny answered cheerfully. She jumped up from the brown, leather rolling chair. To her relief, the only noticeable difference in her dad was his beard which tickled when he kissed her on the forehead. However, when she hugged him, he felt noticeably thinner than before she left for school. "So, I was thinking that tonight –"

Arthur cut her off. "Kingsley and I need to talk first. There's a couch outside you can wait on." As soon as the door closed behind Ginny, Arthur crossed his arms and leaned on the ornate, mahogany desk. He frowned at Kingsley. "Something's wrong."

"There are have been whispers," he began slowly, "of an attack at Percy's wedding. Nothing has been confirmed yet, and all the dark wizards have been lying low since Voldemort's defeat, for the most part. However, this is a prime opportunity for them to launch an attack. We would be fools to ignore this risk. I have a team of the top Aurors ready to go. They'll strengthen the wards around the Burrow tonight and will keep guard at the boundaries Sunday. I will personally oversee their work. We can be at the Burrow in thirty minutes if that works for you."

Arthur rubbed his face, remembering Bill and Fleur's wedding. "You think this would be a way of them seeking revenge?"

"Yes."

"How do we know this will work?"

"We don't, but it's better than if we don't take any precautions. Remember, these are merely whispers."

"There have been random attacks for months now –"

"And we've caught some of those dark wizards. There are not many more out there, and they are weak. It will not be like Bill's wedding," Kingsley assured.

"Okay…" Arthur said. "I'll see you in half an hour." With that, Kingsley took his leave. Arthur closed his eyes. He did not want to go to the Burrow, but Kingsley was still unaware of the problems between him and Molly. Thankfully, Muriel's tendency to embellish was well-known, so no one really put much stock into what she said, except Andromeda who knew better. The longer he could keep everything a secret, the better. He rubbed his eyes.

"Alright, here's the plan –" Ginny started as she reentered.

"Merlin, can you not knock!" Arthur burst out, giving Ginny a start.

"Geez, _sorry_ ," she sassed. "I saw Kingsley leave. I thought it was okay."

Arthur took a deep breath. "No, it's fine. I'm sorry for snapping at you," he apologized. "Please, continue."

"I was thinking we can go by the grocery store on the way home. We invite the guys over. I can cook, and we'll have a family dinner like we did before I left!" she suggested cheerfully, beaming.

"Did Harry not tell you they're throwing a surprise stag party for Percy tonight?"

"Nooo," she said slowly, head cocked. She laughed at the thought of Percy having a stag party. "I would pay a Galleon to see that!" Laughter subsiding, she continued. "Well, I can cook for the two of us then."

"And you have Audrey's hen party tonight," Arthur reminded.

"Oh, I'm not going." Ginny sat in one of the two plump armchairs in her dad's office.

Arthur crossed his arms and asked. "Why is that?"

"I'd rather spend my time with you. I haven't seen you in weeks."

"No." He shook his head. "You came home for the wedding festivities. Have fun with the girls tonight. I'll see you when you get home. Besides, I still have some work to do on the way home."

"Ooh." She sat forward and rested her chin on her fist. "Where are you going?" she asked, intrigued.

Arthur frowned. "The Burrow."

"Ugh," she groaned and plopped back in the chair. She had yet to reconcile with her mother and other brothers even though she had received letters from Molly and Charlie had tried talking to her at Hogwarts. " _Why_?"

"Some Aurors are coming to strengthen the wards and put up more protective charms. Wait in the hall a minute and I'll walk out with you," he offered.

Ginny closed the door behind her.

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," he muttered as he moved his wand in a circular motion…Nothing happened. He tried again. Once more, nothing happened. He hadn't expected it to. Frustrated, he stowed his wand. The last time he remembered casting his Patronus was during the Final Battle. Since then, he could barely produce a thin, silver wisp. He had no clue why his weasel guardian had suddenly deserted him.

Locking the door behind him, Arthur commanded Ginny, "Send a Patronus to your mother letting her know I'll be there soon."

"Why can't you?" she retorted.

"Because I told you to," he snapped.

A silver horse appeared before them. After Ginny relayed the message, it galloped away. Father and daughter walked out of the Ministry together.

A few minutes later, Arthur apparated just outside of the Burrow. Molly waited for him on the front porch. As he walked toward the house, Arthur drank from his flask. He had waited all day, and seeing Molly was not going to keep him from it any longer. Reluctantly, Molly let him into the house.

In the kitchen, Conner mixed what looked like cake batter. Layers of cake which had already been baked sat on the table. Arthur was appalled. He had given Molly a warning, and she didn't do anything about the Irishman? In fact, he was helping with preparations for _his son's_ wedding! Arthur's blood boiled. "McGrath," he growled.

"Arthur," Conner greeted with a smile.

"Aren't you supposed to be catching a Murtlap? Yet, you're spending the night with _my_ _wife,_ helping with _my son's_ wedding," he seethed.

"Let's leave work at work, Arthur," Conner stated calmly.

"Well, _my family_ is not work. How about we go outside and discuss _that_!" Arthur challenged, closing the space between them. This did not affect Conner.

Molly stepped between them. She placed a hand on Arthur's bony chest and gently pushed him back. It was then that she realized he'd lost weight. Carefully studying her husband's face revealed slightly sunken cheeks behind his new beard, not to mention the dark circles under his eyes. It had been six weeks since she'd seen him last. Now that she knew how badly it hurt him to see her, she did not want to make that worse. Seeing him like this hurt her, too. She thought keeping her distance would help them both to heal. How wrong she was. It continued proving beneficial for her, but detrimental to her husband.

Molly swallowed. "Arthur, why are you here?" she asked.

He glared at the other man for a few more seconds before looking at Molly. "Kingsley is bringing a team of Aurors over. There's been rumor of an attack Sunday, but it's not been confirmed," he informed. "They'll be here in about fifteen minutes. I'll be in the shed until then." He started for the back door.

"You don't have to," Molly's voice stopped him.

"It's either him or me," he stated.

"Conner's not leaving."

The door shut forcefully behind Arthur. He followed the path to his shed.

Once inside, he looked around his shed. The shards of glass from the bottle he smashed months ago still lay scattered on the floor. The liquid had long evaporated. All the Muggle contraptions – batteries, plugs, rubber ducks, telephones, and more – cluttered the shelves. It was all worthless. This shed was full of meaningless junk. How could he have wasted so many years out here, fiddling with these irrelevant objects?

He sat on a dusty stool and drank from his flask again. Leaning over, he pickd up a shard of glass that had landed nearby. He ran his finger across the jagged edge. As he turned it over in his hand, he remembered the last time he was in there vividly.

Molly only wanted to help, and he terrified her with his explosive outburst. Sometime between then and now, she had abandoned him and run to a stranger. That hot summer day, Arthur was ready to leave his home and his family, and for what reason? His son was dead and his family was still grieving? He was unhappy? He wanted to drown his sorrows in peace? What kind of reasons were those? It seemed his family was no longer grieving, at least not how they were. He was even more miserable now than he was. While he was finally left alone to numb his pain, that's not what he really wanted...And now, he had no one except for a few letters from his daughter each week. His family was moving on while he was drowning.

The piece of glass clattered against the window before falling to the floor. Arthur took a long pull from the silver container.

Pops of apparitions echoed through the cool October air, signaling the arrival of Kingsley and the Aurors. Arthur stowed his flask and went out to meet them.

"One hour, and we should be out of your hair, Arthur," Kingsley said as the redhead approached.

"Take as long as you need," Arthur replied.

Over the next hour, Arthur walked around the boundaries with Kingsley and the Aurors. There was no need for him to be there, but it was better than being in the shed or house. Thankfully, Kingsley was too busy to notice Arthur wasn't one hundred percent there.

"Alright! That should have it," Kingsley said once they reached the spot they had begun at. "I'll be here Sunday afternoon with some Aurors to get them at their post," he told Arthur.

Arthur shook the younger man's hand. "Thank you, Kingsley. We really appreciate this."

"It's no problem, Arthur."

After Kingsley and the Aurors left, Arthur went back to the house. Molly and Conner were still in the kitchen, except now they were washing dishes…by hand…not using any magic…whatsoever. Molly giggled and playfully swatted at Conner when he blew suds toward her. Arthur hadn't seen her smile like that in ages. They both gave a start when Arthur cleared his throat.

"They've finished," Arthur informed.

"I hope you thanked Kingsley," Molly said. She returned to the dishes.

"Of course," Arthur replied. Taking a drink, he sat on the table. "I've sent a few letters."

"Yes, I got them." Molly dried her hands, put them on her hips, and faced her husband.

"Did you read them?"

"No."

"I'll give you a minute," Conner excused himself to the other room.

"If you bothered to read them, you would know I want to help with my son's wedding," Arthur said.

"Everything's taken care of," Molly assured.

"It takes several people to set up that marquee."

"Conner and the boys have it handled," she said confidently.

There he was again…Conner…Conner…Conner…That's all it was these days. At work, Arthur saw Conner at least twice a week. Whenever he saw his sons – rare as it was – Conner was mentioned at least once. Even though he scarcely saw or spoke to his wife, Conner was talked about more and more. It seemed her life revolved around Conner. Conner was quickly _replacing_ him. Arthur's heart rate quickened and he subconsciously ground his teeth together. Various kitchen utensils clattered loudly as they began to tremble.

Conner rushed in. "Everything alright, Molls?" he asked.

 _Molls?_ They even had nicknames for each other?

Molly did not have a chance to answer Conner. The chairs shuddered briefly before shooting away from the table. A shriek escaped Molly. The old, wooden chairs slammed into the walls and cabinets. A few of them splintered and cracked. This sudden burst of unstable magic even jarred Arthur. Before he did anything he regretted, he stormed out. The doorframe splintered as he slammed the door behind him. A _crack_ of apparition resounded through the Burrow soon after.

**oOoOo**

The hen party wrapped up around midnight. Ginny had to admit she had fun. However, she was anxious to get home. After being at school for weeks, her dad was bound to be waiting for her to get home. She was sure he would be on the couch, ready to hear how the party went and how school was going.

After she stepped out of the Floo, she waited for the room to stop spinning. A pile of vomit lay near the fireplace. Panic surged through her when saw her dad unconscious on top of a crushed coffee table. A shard of glass from a nearby broken bottle protruded from his hand.

"Dad? Daddy?!" She exclaimed as she rushed to him. "Daddy?!" She rolled him over. Dried blood ran from his temple, nose, and corner of his mouth. An eye was swollen as well. She shook him, but he did not wake. Tears streamed down Ginny's face. She watched closely to see if he was breathing.

He was – although irregularly.

She covered her mouth with her hands as she sat back on her heels in an attempt to control her shaky breathing. It wasn't getting any better. She pulled out her wand and tried conjuring her Patronus. A silver wisp shot from the tip of her wand, but nothing more. She concentrated harder. The second time, a silver horse appeared before her.

"Help. It's Dad," she choked out. It was all she could manage before sending it off to Bill.

The next three minutes felt like an eternity.

Distantly, she heard pops of apparition quickly followed by voices. Someone pulled her up and dragged her away. She leaned into his embrace as she let uncontrollable sobs overcome her.

He smoothed her hair and murmured reassurances in her ear. "Ginny – Hey – It'll be okay – Take some deep breaths," he whispered. He planted a kiss on top of her head. As he continued his murmurings, she realized it was Harry holding her. She chanced a glance at the sitting room.

George stood up from his kneeling position. "He's not waking up." His voice quavered as he spoke.

" _Rennervate!"_ Red light erupted from Bill's wand.

" _Bill_! _That's not working_ ," George stressed. "He needs Mungo's." He wiped his cheeks on his sleeves.

The twenty-six year old nodded, but didn't move.

God, Bill chose _now_ to freeze up?

Ginny looked around for Percy. Surely, he would take control. She didn't see him anywhere.

"Harry," she whimpered.

Understanding what Ginny was trying to convey with that one word, Harry took control. He let go of her and went to Arthur.

"George," Harry said, motioning to Arthur. George grabbed him, and they disapparated.

Ginny hurried over to Bill who stared at the broken coffee table. She knelt in front of him. "Bill?" She grabbed his hand. "Bill."

He blinked at her.

"We need to get to St. Mungo's. Okay?" she said sternly despite the tears that still ran down her cheeks.

"Yeah," he gulped. They both got to their feet. "I'll apparate us."

"You will splinch us," Ginny said matter-of-factly. "We'll take the Floo."

Healers took Arthur back as soon as Bill and Ginny came up to George and Harry. A Trainee Healer approached the group.

"Hello, I'm Trainee Healer Robertson," she introduced herself. "I need some information on the patient."

All four of them nodded.

"Patient's name?"

"Arthur Weasley."

"Age?"

The Weasley kids had to think about this.

"Forty-seven?" George asked no one in particular.

Bill shook his head. "No. He's forty-eight," he answered confidently.

"Is he taking any potions or Muggle medicine?"

The siblings looked between each other again. They all seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"Hangover Potion, probably," Bill said. "And sometimes, Sober-Up Potion. Other than that, I don't think he's taking anything."

Trainee Healer Robertson glanced up from her clipboard. "Does he have a history of alcohol abuse?"

"Not until a few months ago," George answered this one.

"What happened tonight?"

George and Bill looked to their sister. "I-I-I don't know. H-he was passed out when I-I got home," Ginny stuttered as she clung to Harry.

"Nothing we did would wake him up," George added.

"Has he had any falls?"

"Yeah," Bill nodded. "He fell tonight."

The young witch finished scribbling on the clipboard and looked up. "Is there anything else we might need to know? Even if you think it's irrelevant."

Bill scratched his head. He looked at George.

"Oh!" George exclaimed. "He – uh – He was attacked by a snake a couple years ago. That should be in his record, shouldn't it?"

"Yes, but it is good for us to know from the start. Is that all?"

All three Weasleys nodded.

She put the clipboard to her side. "There is a private waiting room down the hall and to the left. Someone will give you more information as we treat him."

They thanked her, and she bustled off down the hall.

Silence covered the room for a long time while everyone calmed their nerves. Harry held Ginny tightly. They all hated to admit it, but what they had walked into was very jarring. The possibility of losing their father permanently was a thought that none of them had even entertained. At least, there was a chance he could come back from drinking, but if he died, needless to say, they would never be able to get him back.

"Where's Percy?" Ginny finally asked.

George tore his eyes away from the large photograph of a meadow on the far wall. "Oh, he's at home - passed out around eleven-thirty. The party only lasted 'til eleven. He'll have one hell of a hangover, though."

Bill slowly stood and rubbed his forehead.

"What?" Ginny furrowed her eyebrows.

"Somebody's gotta tell them," Bill mumbled.

"Who?"

"Percy – Ron – Charlie – _Mum_ …" Bill pinched his nose. "God, I can't tell Mum."

"You can't tell any of them," Ginny said.

Bill gave her a quizzical look.

"Percy doesn't need to be worrying about this. At least, not until we know what's going on," George stated.

"Yeah, we don't know anything yet. And you look like you don't even know where you are right now," Ginny added.

"Well, Mum _needs_ to know –"

" _No_ ," Ginny interrupted Bill. "You _cannot_ tell her."'

"The clock has told her by now," Bill argued.

"She's probably already in bed," George commented.

"I'm sure she's still up, preparing for Sunday," Bill rebutted.

"Or getting cozy with Conner," Ginny grumbled. She crossed her arms and looked Bill straight in the eye. "This is all your fault."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Ron and Charlie disowned him. You, George, and Percy lied to him. And Mum is being an insensitive slut."

"Hold on!" George interjected as he stood. "Back up. What did _we_ do?"

Ginny glared daggers at him. "The three of you promised you'd all visit him a few times a week."

"We go once every week or two for dinner," George retorted.

"Once every other week isn't what you promised."

"We made that promise when he wasn't drinking," Bill asserted. "Every day, he starts drinking as soon as he gets off work. We don't want to be around that, and I'm not going to make Fleur go through that. The same with Percy and Audrey."

"I wonder why? When Harry and lived with him, he would wait a couple hours before he started drinking. If you visited him more, I'm sure he would do the same," Ginny retorted.

"Do you see the factor that changed when his behavior did?" George asked. "The day you left, he started drinking whenever he wasn't at work."

Ginny got to her feet now. "I wanted to stay! Dad made me go after he told me he didn't need me when _you_ told him I wasn't planning on going," she argued, her voice strained. Part of her knew her dad didn't mean it when he said he didn't need her, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.

George gaped at his sister.

"It's not our fault, and it's not your fault," Bill stated.

Ginny crossed her arms. "You're right. It's Mum's fault."

Bill huffed. "You are just as bad as Dad, blaming everyone else," he said, exasperated.

"Every time he sees her, something bad happens," Ginny defended. "Like tonight. He goes to the Burrow and seven hours later he ends up here. Or is that just coincide?"

Bill and George stared at her.

Ginny plopped down on the chair. "If I had been with Dad tonight, we wouldn't be here." Tears slid down her cheeks again. Harry rubbed Ginny's back. Bill sat on her other side and rested a hand on her knee. George knelt in front of her.

"Gin, we don't know what happened. And if you had been with him and he became violent, you could have been the one in here instead," Bill gently told her. "I'll wait until we find out something."

Silence blanketed the room once more. Bill and George soon returned to their seats.

The clock read a quarter-past two when George was jolted awake by a soft knock before the door opened. A gray-haired Healer stepped in. George nudged Bill awake. Ginny and Harry never fell asleep. The four occupants of the room stood and shook the Healer's hand as he introduced himself.

"Good morning. I'm Healer Wilson. You are Arthur Weasley's family?"

"Yes," Bill and George answered simultaneously.

"Is he okay?" Ginny asked eagerly.

Healer Wilson nodded. "Your father will be fine." He gave her a small smile. He addressed the group as a whole again. "Your father's injuries were mostly consistent with an altercation. That explains the cuts and abrasions on his face, along with the black eye. He also had two broken ribs and a moderate concussion which could have been caused by his fall or the altercation. We also removed the glass from his hand and healed it, but it may take a few weeks – or even months – before he can regain full control of it since several muscles were damaged. He was suffering from alcohol poisoning as well. Any vomiting, irregular breathing or heart rate, or unconsciousness would have been caused by that. It will take a couple more hours before all of the alcohol is out of his system. Sober-Up Potion can only do so much. The rest of the alcohol will have to filter out naturally. So, other than his hand, there is no long-term damage. However, he will need to take it easy for a while and strictly, _no drinking_."

Healer Wilson glanced at his clipboard. "There is something that raises some concern. I just need some clarification in order to rule out any serious issues, if any of you could help. Your father is a little underweight. It's nothing to be concerned about right now, but we can't find a cause for it…How is his diet? Has he been eating regularly or skipping meals? Have you noticed any change in his eating habits?"

"Gee, wouldn't it have been good if you had been having dinner with him like you promised," Ginny mumbled.

"Ginny, now is not the time," Bill hissed.

"None of us live with him, Healer Wilson, so we couldn't tell you. My brother has said our dad usually skips lunch though," George answered.

"He rarely ate breakfast when I lived with him," Ginny added.

The Healer scribbled some notes on his clipboard. "I will be sure to ask him when he wakes up, but it sounds like he just is not eating enough."

"How long does he need to stay here?" George asked.

"He needs to stay for observation, but can leave Sunday morning if no problems arise. Since he suffered from those snake bites in ninety-five, we ran some tests to check for any residual effects from that as well. It is nothing serious and does not need any immediate attention. It seems Healer Smethwyck was unable to remove all of the snake's venom from your father's blood stream. Over time, it has gradually weakened his heart. And like I said, it is nothing to worry about, but he will need to have it checked once a year, and eventually, a Healer will have to go in and put some strengthening charms around it."

"Thank you, Healer Wilson," Bill said.

"Thanks," George said also.

"Can we see him now?" Ginny asked.

"Yes. However, he is sleeping. He has expended a substantial amount of magic recently."

"How?" Bill inquired.

"We're not sure, and he can't remember anything from the past nine hours. It does appear to have been uncontrolled magic though."

The four thanked Healer Wilson again. With a nod, the healer took his leave. Bill ran his hands through his long hair. George blew out a long breath as he sat down. Ginny leaned into Harry, and he rested his chin on her head. Their dad would be fine, but they may never know what took place that night. If they're lucky, this incident might even deter him from drinking.

A few minutes later, they found their dad's room and quietly slipped inside. They took up residence on one of the chairs or couch in the room. Arthur lay motionless, his chest rising and falling steadily. Blood, cuts, or bruises no longer adorned his face. His hand lay bandaged on the bed next to him.

Around three-thirty in the morning, Bill went home with the promise of returning first thing in the morning. He was certain Fluer would be worried that something bad had happened by now. Shortly before that, Ginny and Harry had fallen asleep on the couch. George remained awake in the recliner, staring at his dad without realizing it.

**oOoOo**

Morning came quickly for all and brought with it some unsettling news.

Bill carried that morning's _Daily Prophet_ and some muffins with him to St. Mungo's. It was just after nine o'clock when he got there. Arthur was still asleep, and George looked like he hadn't slept at all. Ginny and Harry only sat up after Bill came in and gave them some muffins.

"Hey, could you get us some coffee from upstairs?" Bill asked Ginny and Harry softly, in order to not wake their sleeping father. He was surprised when they went with no debate from Ginny. After the couple left the room, Bill handed George the newspaper. "Have you seen this?"

George looked at the headline then pointed to another copy on the table next to him. "Yeah. I – uh - guess we know what happened, huh?" he said.

"This is going to be a nightmare."

"Half of this is complete shite."

"Not everyone knows that,' Bill pointed out, taking a seat in the vacant chair.

"All they have to do is look at who wrote it. Everyone knows whatever Rita Skeeter writes is pure fiction."

Silence fell on the room when Arthur stirred. He groaned and reached up to rub his head. He squinted at his sons.

"Morning, Sunshine," George smirked.

"How do you feel, Dad?" Bill asked.

"Like I went three rounds with the Whomping Willow," he griped. "Is there any Hangover Potion?" he mumbled. George picked up the red vial on the table and handed it to him. He took it gratefully.

"Here's some water, too," George said, handing a cup to Arthur who drank from it greedily. "Healer Wilson said you're dehydrated…and underweight. Have you not been eating?"

"Let's not get into that now," Arthur said sharply.

"No, we need to talk about this," Bill said. "You could have died last night. If Ginny wasn't staying with you, you would be."

"I don't even know what happened last night!" Arthur yelled. "So why don't you drop it?"

George blew out a breath. "I'm glad Ginny wasn't in here just now."

"Sorry," Arthur mumbled. The worst thing he could have done crossed his mind then. "I didn't hurt her, did I?"

"No, you were already passed out when she got home. She thought you were dead," Bill deadpanned.

Arthur's face paled. He couldn't imagine how his daughter must have felt, finding him like that.

"You better pray she somehow doesn't find out about this." Bill dropped the _Daily Prophet_ on his lap.

Arthur tried to pick it up with his left hand, but he couldn't get his fingers to close. He frowned at his bandaged hand. He tried making a fist and grimaced when a sharp pain shot through his hand instead.

"A piece of glass was stuck in your palm," George answered. "They did what they could with magic. Now, you have to wait for it to heal on its own."

Using his good hand, Arthur picked up the paper and dread set in before he even started reading. A picture plastered in the center of the front page played out three men pulling him off of someone else. Then he read the headline:

**War Hero or Public Menace?**

"What the hell did I do?" Arthur breathed. He forced himself to continue reading:

_Friday, October the 16_ _th_ _brought about a disastrous event at the Hog's Head Inn in Hogsmeade. One man left several people injured and the pub in shambles._

_Arthur Weasley, 48, is best-known for his role in the Second Wizarding War. As a leader of Albus Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, Weasley was on the frontlines for the entire war. He, along with his son Percy Weasley, defeated the Imperiused former Minister of Magic Pius Thicknesse during the Battle of Hogwarts. After the war, Weasley was awarded an Order of Merlin (First Class) for his unwavering allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix and contribution to the defeat of Lord Voldemort. Most recently, he has become the Head of the Department of Muggle Relations - the newest addition to the Ministry of Magic._

_Since the end of the war, Weasley has been seen in bars, pubs, and liquor stores across Wizarding Britain. There has rarely been a time in which Arthur Weasley has not been seen drinking. Sources have said Weasley is "unpredictable and uncontrollable," "belligerent," and "a pathetic drunk." For generations, the Weasley family has produced countless alcoholics. For these reasons, it is highly likely Arthur Weasley has always had a drinking problem, but it has only just been exposed due to his recent time in the spotlight._

_It is reported that his thirty-year marriage with Molly Weasley née Prewett, 47, is on the verge of collapse as well, and for good reason. Much like his father, Septimus, Weasley has been known to beat his wife whether he was in a drunken rage or not. Over the past several months, Molly Weasley has been seen with an Irish wizard, Conner McGrath. Is she merely trying to replace her husband or could she truly be in love with this other redheaded hottie? The fact that she spends much more time with McGrath than anyone else suggests the latter._

_Last night, Arthur Weasley entered the Hog's Head already in a rage. It was not even an hour before he was highly intoxicated and insulting anyone who looked at him. One of the patrons finally had enough and confronted Weasley. Without warning, Weasley attacked the other, larger man. It took three surly wizards to pull Weasley off. A bar brawl then ensued between Weasley and several others, resulting in broken tables, a shattered window, and seven wizards non-magically injured. The fight only ended when Weasley was knocked out. When he awoke a few minutes later, he left of his own accord._

_This is not the first time Weasley has been aggressive. As previously stated, he is a wife-beater. He has also been physically violent with his sons. There have been numerous other times Weasley has started conflicts with others, including the half-giant Rubeus Hagrid and wife's new beau, Conner McGrath._

_Alcoholism, abuse, and infidelity have caused quite the scandal for Harry Potter's adoptive family. Minister Shacklebolt needs to rethink who he wants in leadership for his reformed Ministry of Magic. Arthur Weasley is definitely not the wizard for the job. If you encounter this deranged monster, it would be best to steer clear._

_-Rita Skeeter_

"Oh my God," Arthur breathed. He stared at the article in disbelief. Surprisingly, Rita Skeeter used several facts, mainly at the beginning of the article. She had apparently done some research on his family as well. What she wrote about Molly and Conner seemed accurate. This made it more difficult to determine if her account of the previous night was true or not. This one article could ruin his reputation and cost him his job all in one day. He blinked. "I don't – I don't know what I should believe," he finally mumbled.

"Believe the picture," George said. "Believe that you're in hospital."

"Are you finally done drinking now, Dad?" Bill asked.

Before Arthur could even think about this question, Ginny came in fuming with a copy of that morning's newspaper. "Can you believe what that bitch wrote? How could they print that, let alone put it on the front page?" she asked indignantly. She calmed down slightly when she saw her dad. "This _isn't_ true, is it?" she questioned, daring him to say "yes."

"I don't know."

"You wouldn't do that," she stated firmly.

"Sweetie..." Arthur shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Was it because of Mum? Because you had to go to the Burrow? What did she do?"

"Ginny," Bill warned. He took her to a corner of the room. "Whatever Dad did, he has himself to blame. No one has made him do anything, except himself," he told her in a hushed whisper.

Bill glanced at his watch. They were supposed to be at the Burrow to help set up ten minutes ago. "Come on. We gotta go," he told his siblings. George stood up, but Ginny sat on the couch.

"When can I get out of here?" Arthur asked.

"Tomorrow morning," George answered. "Here," he tossed a muffin to his dad, "eat some muffins while you wait."

"Ginny, let's go," Bill repeated.

"I'm staying here."

After the past several hours, neither of her brothers wanted to argue. They didn't have the energy. However, Bill made sure she knew he would be there to pick her and Harry up before the rehearsal dinner.

**oOoOo**

When Bill and George arrived at the Burrow a few minutes later, the rest of their siblings, significant others, and Conner were already there. They drank tea around the kitchen table. Of course, the topic of conversation was Rita Skeeter's article.

"It can't be true," Percy was saying. "Nothing she writes is."

"I went by this morning to check on the place," Charlie said. "Aberforth said that is _exactly_ what happened."

"We've been telling you all he's dangerous. Ginny doesn't need to be around him by herself for five minutes, let alone a weekend," Ron stated vehemently.

"You two are late," their mum chided over her other sons' arguing. "We have a lot to do and little time to do it."

Bill and George gave mumbled apologies.

"Where are Ginny and Harry?" Molly asked when she realized the boys were by themselves. "Everyone has to help."

"They're at Mungo's," George said absentmindedly as he poured himself a cup of extra-strong coffee.

Over the past few weeks, Molly had gotten out of the habit of compulsively looking at the grandfather clock. Now, she glanced at it for the first time in days. Sure enough, Ginny's hand sat on "Hospital." She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "Merlin, she's in hospital," her voice quavered, fearing her husband had finally harmed their daughter.

"No, Mum, Ginny and Harry are both fine," Bill quickly assured.

"Why is she there then?" Molly questioned in a tone that commanded complete honesty.

"She didn't want to leave Dad," George answered. "Harry is with them, too."

Molly absentmindedly spun her wedding ring around her finger. She was a bit more relieved, but still worried. "Is he okay?" she asked without emotion.

"He'll be fine. Nothing too serious," Bill answered.

Molly sighed and sat back. "Is he angry with me?" she asked after a moment.

"No more than usual," Bill replied, making himself some tea. "Why? Did something happen while he was here last night?" he asked nonchalantly.

Molly quirked an eyebrow. "He didn't tell you?"

"He doesn't remember a thing after he left work." George set his mug on the table, found an empty chair, and plopped down in it. The chair collapsed beneath him with a loud _crack_. "Oof!"

Conner held out a hand to help him up. "I think we missed one, Molls." He frowned at the chair before repairing it with a wave of his wand.

"Why was it even broken in the first place?" George griped, rubbing his sore bum.

Molly sighed again. "Your dad lost control of his magic last night."

"Is he still going to be able to come to the wedding?" Percy broke in.

"Should be," Bill said.

"Percy, I told you that he shouldn't be there," Charlie said. "Especially, not after last night."

"And I told you, it's my wedding. My dad is going to be there," Percy shot.

Molly interrupted, clearing her throat. "We should start setting up," she said as she stood. That put an end to any possible impending argument.

With so many people helping, it only took a few hours to set up. Conner, Ron, Charlie, Bill, George, and Percy had the marquee up by lunch. Soon after, all the tables and chairs were set up along with the bar on one end of the marquee. Fleur, Hermione, and Molly helped Audrey with decorations. They cast cooling charms over the flower arrangements in order to preserve them for the wedding and reception. While the women were decorating, the men went to the orchard to set up for the ceremony. Everything was finished in time for everyone to shower and change.

The wedding party was rather small. George was the best man. Oliver Wood and Bill were groomsmen. Charlie and Ron attended the rehearsal dinner, but due to their relationship with Percy still being rocky, they were not in the wedding party. Audrey's best friend, Cassie, was the maid of honor. Ginny and Fleur were bridesmaids. Since Audrey's family was so small, the youngest Weasley cousin, six year old Louisa, was the flower girl. With the youngest male Weasley cousin coming in at fifteen, George would be in charge of the rings instead of a ring bearer.

Shortly after he and his family arrived, Arthur's youngest brother Desmond came up to Percy. They shook hands. "You excited or nervous for tomorrow?" Desmond asked with a grin.

"Both," Percy chuckled. "Is Louisa still feeling good about it?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely. She is absolutely _ecstatic_. And Penelope always loves an opportunity to dress her little sister up," Desmond said, beaming.

"Gosh, how old is she now?"

"Almost ten."

Percy let out a low whistle. "Before you know it, it will be time for Hogwarts."

Desmond shook his head. "Merlin knows I'm not ready for that." He glanced at his wife talking to Molly across the yard. He smirked and continued quietly, "I think I'm a bigger softie than Paulene when it comes to those girls."

"That's how Dad is with Ginny," Percy commented.

"How is your dad?" Desmond asked. Arthur's absence hadn't slipped his notice, nor had the presence of Conner. "I haven't seen him in several months."

"Oh! Yeah – uh – he's…he's not feeling all that well tonight," Percy stammered.

"It's okay, Percy. I saw the article this morning. I just want to know how he's doing."

"It's not been easy," Percy admitted. "Let's just leave it at that."

Desmond put a hand on his nephew's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "Listen, I know how it is growing up with a father like that. That's why I don't touch the stuff. If I'd known Arthur was like that too -"

It took a second before what his uncle was saying clicked. Percy interrupted him, "No, it's not like that. Dad has always been a great father. This has only begun recently," he clarified.

Desmond took a step back. "All I'm saying is that I'm here if you need to talk." He walked away.

The rehearsal went off without a hitch. Little Louisa ran out of flowers halfway down the aisle, though. The best part of the rehearsal was the dinner that followed. Molly had prepared a large dinner earlier that afternoon after they finished decorating, and they ate at tables set up in the garden.

It wasn't too late when everyone headed home. Ron and Hermione even went upstairs early. However, Molly wasn't alone. Conner stayed behind to help her with the dishes.

"We should probably talk about what that article said today," Conner said as he put away the last of the dishes.

"We're good friends. That's all," Molly replied. "That woman always spins things to fit her narrative."

"Not everyone realizes that."

She filled up the kettle and put it on the stove. "I don't care what other people think as long as those closest to me know the truth."

"You're husband doesn't. Those few sentences are bound to reinforce what he has always assumed," Conner pointed out, leaning against the counter.

"I've talked to him. If he is going to be hard-headed, then so be it. He convinced himself from the first time he met you that we're more than friends."

"Well…I don't think I should be here tomorrow."

"Nonsense! Percy said you can come, and his opinion is the only one that counts tomorrow."

"After what happened last night, I really don't think it's a good idea for me to be there," Conner reiterated.

"I'm sure that got everything out of Arthur's system last night. Besides, the kids say he doesn't remember anything." Molly took his hand. "I want you to be there," she stressed.

"Alright. Fine," he conceded. "If that's what you want, I'll be happy to accompany you." He bowed and softly kissed the back of her hand. He stood up straight again. "Will you be alright by yourself tonight? Or I can stay again like I did last night?"

"Thank you. I think I'll be fine tonight."

"Do you need anything else before I go?"

"No. You have been a great help. I'll see you in the morning." She smiled up at him.

He hugged her tightly before putting on his travelling cloak and disapparting.


	30. An Eventful Wedding Day

After a few long months and an even longer weekend, the day of the wedding finally came. The Burrow buzzed with people and last-minute wedding preparations. From daybreak, Molly, Conner, Hermione, and Fleur worked tirelessly in the kitchen. Dinner for a hundred-some-odd people wasn't going to cook itself, after all. They had to keep shooing Ron out of the kitchen after he finally woke up, and he was sent to the village to pick up lunch for everyone a bit later.

Later that afternoon, the food was finished and the kitchen cleaned. However, things did not slow down. The Burrow was ready to burst at the seams as the wedding party and immediate family began arriving. For an hour, people were in and out of the only two showers the Burrow had. Audrey and the bridal party used the master bedroom to get ready while Percy and the groomsmen were in his old room a couple floors up. Those not in the wedding chatted downstairs, except Penelope who was helping with her little sister.

George arrived a little late. He had offered to deal with their father. For months, he had been expecting that to be his responsibility. However, with Arthur having been in the hospital until the early afternoon, it made his job a little easier. They had gone by Arthur's flat so he could shower and get changed after he was discharged. George made sure his dad didn't get any alcohol while they were there either. _Keep Dad sober as long as possible_ , that was the key.

"Can I leave you down here, or do I have to babysit you all night?" George asked on the porch.

Arthur glared at him. "I'll be fine."

Inside, George gave a hasty, general greeting before running upstairs to get ready. He gave Harry a subtle gesture, indicating that he would step in if any conflict arose between Arthur and anyone else.

For the first time in his life, Arthur felt like an outsider in his own house. Ron and Charlie ignored him completely while they talked to Desmond and Paulene. Harry and Hermione were also in that conversation. With Audrey's parents were Molly and…Conner.

Seriously...? _He_ was here? Even after that article? If there was one way to make a bad situation worse, this was it. It was their son's wedding for Merlin's sake! And his wife brought a _date_? Arthur would not let this get to him. He took a few calming breaths, ignored Conner, and sat next to his brother and sister-in-law, causing Ron and Charlie to make an excuse to leave that conversation..

"I think something's growing on your face," Desmond teased.

Arthur laughed dryly.

"Trent and Ian can make a beard work, but you…" the younger brother frowned, "not so much."

"I don't recall asking your opinion," Arthur shot.

"Relax. I was only joking," Desmond defended. "It doesn't look bad, actually."

Arthur patted his forehead with a handkerchief. Since the previous night, he couldn't seem to cool off, which meant he couldn't sleep well either. As he was putting the handkerchief back in his pocket, there were several pops of apparition outside. He saw Kingsley through the window. Thankful for this interruption before Desmond or Paulene could ask how he was, Arthur excused himself.

As soon as he stepped outside, he remembered there was no way Kingsley could have missed the article.

"Arthur," Kingsley greeted as jovially as usual.

"Merlin, Kingsley! Did you bring enough Aurors?" Arthur forced a chuckle as he looked around at no less than a dozen Aurors in front of him.

"Eight for the perimeter and four for around the marquee." Kingsley frowned and observed the group as well. "That should be enough, shouldn't it?" he asked uncertainly.

Arthur crossed his arms. "Have there been any more whispers?"

"No."

"Then, I think we'll be fine." He shrugged. "And what's left of the Order will be here as well, so..." he trailed off.

"Does Percy know about the threats?"

"No, no one has told him. He already has enough on his mind. If he asks about the Aurors around the marquee, we can tell him they're for you." Arthur took out the handkerchief and patted his forehead again.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "Nervous?"

Arthur shrugged. "I guess so." He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Kingsley whistled to gain the attention of the murmuring Aurors. "Let's get set up!" he commanded. Arthur walked alongside Kingsley as he led the Aurors to the boundaries. He looked over at Arthur. "How much time do we have?"

Arthur pulled his left hand out of his pocket. He continued walking and looked at his watch which slid slightly on his wrist. "Half an hour 'til the photographer shows up. Almost two hours 'til the guests start arriving," Arthur answered.

Kingsley nodded. "Plenty of time then. I'll double-check the wards after I get the Aurors in place."

Arthur stuck his hand back in his pocket, but not before Kingsley noticed the red, jagged scar on the back of his hand.

"Did you get that the other night?" Kingsley inquired conversationally.

Arthur took his hands back out of his pockets. He rubbed his aching hand. "Piece of glass," was his short reply. He braced himself for the inevitable, painful conversation about Skeeter's article, but Kingsley left it at that.

Arthur walked the boundaries with Kingsley and the Aurors, one being stationed every now and then, until he had to go back for the wedding photos.

As soon as he walked into the house, Louisa and Penelope rushed up to him. "Uncle Artie!" they squealed with excitement.

Arthur picked up Louisa and hugged Penelope with his free arm while she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Don't you two look pretty," he complimented. The girls giggled.

"Is everyone ready for pictures?" George asked loudly. When everyone confirmed, the house slowly began to empty, except for Harry, Hermione, and Conner who stayed behind. There would be enough people outside. They didn't need to add to the chaos and confusion.

Desmond went to take Louisa from Arthur, but Arthur said, "It's alright, Desmond. Make yourselves at home. We can watch her."

However, Desmond continued to take her from him and handed her to Paulene. When the girls were out of earshot, Desmond whispered, "Look, we would rather you not be around the girls. I don't want them experiencing what we did as kids."

Arthur stared at his youngest brother, dumbfounded. "You don't actually believe what that Skeeter woman wrote?" he asked incredulously. He threw his hands out. "Come on, I'm your brother."

"I believe it took three scary-looking guys to pull you off someone," Desmond responded. "I'm sorry, Arthur, but after what we went through with Dad, I'm not taking any chances with my daughters." He followed his wife and daughters out.

Arthur stared after him. How could his own brother say that to him? Sure, it didn't look good, but the picture wasn't very clear on what happened. You could barely make out what was going on. And it's not like he would hurt his own nieces. No, they weren't as close as they were with their other brothers, but Desmond should know him better than that.

George poked his head back in. "Ya coming, Dad?"

Arthur blinked. "Yeah." He dabbed his forehead again as he walked out.

As they followed everyone else out to the orchard, George asked skeptically, "Where did you go?"

"I was walking the perimeter with Kingsley. He's setting up the Aurors and checking the wards again," Arthur answered.

When they reached the rest of the group, Percy saw his dad for the first time that day. The groom blurted, "You couldn't have shaved, Fa-" He forced a cough. "Dad?"

"Well, 'hello' to you, too," Arthur said sourly.

"Sorry, hi," Percy mumbled. "But look at your face." He gestured to his dad's face. "There's… _hair_ all over it."

Arthur stroked his beard. "It's called a beard. I keep it trimmed. I don't see what the problem is."

"Hey, Perce," George stepped in. He put his hands on his brother's shoulders. "Everything is going smoothly. Everything is set up. Let's not get hung up over small, trivial things. Alright?"

Percy nodded his head. "Yes – Small – Trivial – Everything is fine," he muttered to himself as he wandered off.

George looked to his father. "He's been like this all day," he commented. "Almost cried when his boutonnière was a little flat. It was an easy fix, of course, but still."

"Audrey looks more at ease than he does," Arthur said, watching the photographer arrange the bride and groom. "No one told either of them about the threats?" Arthur whispered so only George could hear.

" _No_. Do you think he would be this well-off if he knew?" George responded. He pulled his dad aside. There was a burning question that had not yet been answered. "After what happened this weekend, are you _finally_ done drinking?"

Arthur looked at his injured hand. He noticed it was shaking slightly. Merlin, maybe he was nervous, but he wasn't nervous at all for Bill's wedding. Perhaps, it was the rumors of an attack putting him on edge. He glanced over at Desmond then Ginny caught his eye. He remembered what he must have put her through. Arthur looked back at his second-youngest son. "Yes," he said firmly. "I'm done."

"Can I trust that you won't get drunk and ruin this for Percy and Audrey?"

Arthur's eyes never left George's. "I am done drinking," he repeated. For the past twenty-four hours, he had been having trouble keeping the thought of having a drink out of his head, but that didn't mean he would give into the urges.

"Can I trust that you're being honest with me?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"Well, I'm not so sure. You're going to have to earn my trust back, along with everyone else's."

"George!" Bill called as he motioned for George to get set for their photos.

"You better not mess this up," George told his dad again. "If you feel like you're about to drink tonight, _tell me_. _That_ will help me trust you again," he stressed before joining his brothers and Oliver.

Arthur made his way to stand near Molly. Before long, they would be in photos and they had to at least act like they could tolerate each other. Not talking wasn't going to help with that. He stood beside her and watched the group taking their photos.

After a moment, Molly said, "I'm glad you're okay," as she continued watching the photos being taken.

"Thank you," Arthur replied. After another moment, he asked, "Can we talk? We – We need to talk."

Molly crossed her arms. "That depends." She looked up at him. "Have you been drinking today?"

Arthur looked her in the eye. "No, I haven't."

She glanced back at the photographer who was setting up for another photo. "It doesn't look like they'll need us any time soon. Come on." She led him to the center of the orchard where the chairs and trellis were set up for the ceremony then looked expectantly at him.

"Look, I-I don't remember anything from the other night." He scratched the back of his head, "And I know this won't mean anything to you, but…if I did or said anything while I was here, I am _truly_ sorry. It terrifies me, not knowing what I did," When Molly didn't say anything, he shoved his hands into his pockets and continued. "I'm done. I'm not going to drink anymore."

Some hair fell in Molly's face as she watched a few brown leaves blow across the ground while she contemplated what her husband said. As much as she wanted it to be true, Molly couldn't make herself believe his statement. She moved the hair out of her face as she looked back at Arthur. "What makes this different from the other times you said you'd quit?" she questioned.

"All the other times, I did it for you or the kids. I didn't really," he shrugged, " _want_ to quit. But, now…I want to stop, for myself and for my family. I've put all of you through hell, and that's the last thing anyone needed right now." He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked a few feet away. He stared at his feet, thinking of Ginny again. When he looked back at Molly, his eyes were misty. "I owe my life to our daughter," he continued quietly. "I can't begin to imagine what I put her through. She shouldn't have had to experience that."

"No, she shouldn't have…but I am thankful she was there," Molly admitted. It seemed like she still had more to say, so Arthur waited. "You know, I partly blame myself for all of this," she finally said, staring at a chair.

"Really? How is that?" Arthur asked evenly, but expecting her to finally express some guilt about Conner.

"I keep thinking if I had pointed out how much you were drinking sooner, then none of this would have happened," she confessed then looked up at him. She did feel responsible for the other night as well, but she wouldn't tell him that. There was no need to anyway, since he couldn't even remember what happened.

"It wouldn't've made a difference. I wouldn't've listened. I was doing whatever I could to escape," Arthur assured. He took a deep breath as he got ready to finally open up to his wife. "I've felt like shite –"

Molly cleared her throat disapprovingly.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I've been miserable nearly every day since the end of the war. Nothing makes me happy. Everything's… _pointless_. For months, I've just wanted things to end," he confessed. "But I realize now that I can't do that to the kids. I couldn't do that to you."

It took a minute for Molly to register the meaning behind her husband's words. It hit her hard when she understood. A lump formed in her throat. "W-Why have you not said anything?" she croaked.

"You know I've never been good with sharing my emotions."

"No, you have always been very affectionate and you have never had issues showing your emotions," she contradicted calmly, "but thirty years, and it's still a fight to get you to talk about what you're struggling with," Molly said. "You don't have to be strong for everyone. It's okay to ask for help."

Arthur gently wiped away a tear that escaped and rolled down his wife's cheek. He tucked some hair behind her ear and let his hand linger there. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." For a second, Arthur thought she was going to move his hand, but she reached up and held it.

"Do you still feel like that?" she whispered.

"That doesn't matter right now," he replied, looking past her.

"Arthur…" she pleaded weakly.

He pulled her closer and softly kissed the top of her head. "Yes," he murmured into her hair. She let out a small whimper. "It's not as big of a deal as you think. This isn't the first time." His dress robes tightened around him as Molly gripped them in her fists. "I've been waiting for this to pass like usual, but it doesn't feel like it ever will."

Molly lost whatever composure she had maintained. She wept and leaned further into her husband. When she realized just how thin he had become, she began to sob. Arthur rested his chin on her head and lightly wrapped his arms around her.

This explained a few things for her: why Arthur would be reserved for a few days or weeks, or why his mood would abruptly drop from one moment to the next. But if this was as common as he made it seem, then Molly had been oblivious to the pain her husband had periodically been in over the course of their relationship. Guilt gripped her. She knew he needed her, but she never realized how much.

It was a little while before she could calm down. Molly wasn't quite sure what made her so upset – what Arthur said, the guilt she felt, realizing she had almost lost him again that weekend and it would have been her fault, months of pent-up emotions, the exhaustion from preparing for the wedding, or a mixture of everything. Finally, she pulled away and wandered to a seat on the back row. Arthur straddled the chair in the row in front of her and patted his forehead with the handkerchief. He rested his forearms on the back of the chair.

Molly forced a half-hearted laugh. "My make-up is probably a huge mess."

"Your face is a bit red, but the make-up is intact," Arthur informed.

Molly was relieved at this and remembered the magical make-up she had bought for occasions such as this. It was guaranteed to stay in place no matter how much you cried or how wet it got. The label had said it withstood monsoons, but Molly doubted that until now. She dabbed at her tear-stained cheeks with a tissue she carried in her pocket.

"I wish you would have said something. I had no idea you felt that way." She sniffed. "Thirty years, and you've never even hinted at it."

"We've talked about this, Molly…I hate feeling vulnerable."

"Even when it could potentially ruin your life?"

"When you grow up in a family like mine, you build up a wall at a young age. That's hard to break down no matter how far removed you get from that situation," Arthur calmly explained. The couple had discussed his upbringing a few times in their relationship, but it had been several years since the last time they had talked about it. Molly sometimes needed a reminder about how terrible it was and how it still affected him all those years later.

Molly sighed and shook her head. "Septimus really did a number on you."

Arthur shrugged. "Yeah, well…"

"I still don't understand why your grandparents couldn't have taken you all in."

"Molly, they did what they could. We were at their house half the time, but they couldn't take in seven troubled kids. What's important is that they were there when we needed them," Arthur explained. "They practically raised us."

"Wouldn't you take in your grandchildren if, God forbid, they were in a similar situation?" Molly asked.

"Of course, if we were financially able. Gramps and Gran didn't have the means, and they had already raised seven kids. You can't compare them to us. I know they cared about us and did their best, so let's just drop it," he said calmly.

The couple sat in a brief silence, Arthur trying to pull himself out of the dark place that was his childhood and Molly still calming down from several minutes previous.

Molly gently brushed her fingers over Arthur's beard. "I'm not spending time with Conner because I like his beard," she commented, hoping this wouldn't upset her husband.

Arthur scratched at his chin. "That's not why I grew it. I'm not a big fan of it myself, actually."

"Why did you then?"

"Honestly?"

"That's what I've wanted all along."

Arthur studied an apple hanging from a limb a few feet away. "I'm trying to hide the fact I've been losing weight."

It was hard to miss that he had lost weight, but she wasn't sure why he had grown a beard. He never had one in the time she'd known him. Molly gently took his chin and moved his head in order to better study his hidden features. Arthur eyed her warily. "That's what I thought" she said. "Have you not been eating?"

Arthur moved his head out of her grasp. "I've not had much of an appetite." He took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. He looked out of the top of his eyes at her, a look that always reminded her of a lost puppy. "Molly…am I losing you? Have I lost you?" he asked softly, a question that had been nagging him for months now.

She ran her other hand through his hair. With a sad smile, she said, "Silly man, I've only ever loved you."

Arthur continued to hold her hand tightly. He placed his hands with hers on the back of the chair and rested his head on them. "What about Conner?" he asked innocently before burying his face in his arms.

"Arthur, look at me," Molly said gently, coaxing him from his hiding spot. "I do _not_ love him. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"You actually haven't said that," he pointed out softly.

Molly rested her forehead on his and looked into her husband's blue eyes. "I _only_ love you, Arthur Weasley," she reassured.

Until that moment, Arthur had no idea how much he needed to hear those words come out of her mouth. His heart swelled with love for his wife. "You're all I've ever known. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," he murmured.

Soft lips brushed against his. "Hopefully, neither of us will have to find out," Molly whispered.

Arthur returned the kiss. Molly deepened it. For the first time in months, it didn't taste like some sort of alcohol. The kiss quickly became one of passion. Arthur climbed over his chair, picked her up, and set her on his lap without breaking the kiss.

"Merlin, I've missed you," he breathed.

Molly moaned into his mouth when she felt him against her. "I need you."

Arthur began lifting her dress over her hips, but she stopped him. "Wait." She stood. He let out an involuntary whimper. She took his hand and dragged him to a cluster of trees and bushes they had snuck off to many times before. It was the perfect spot, secluded and cozy, barricaded by thick brush. "I'd hate to be interrupted," she murmured, pushing him against a thick tree.

Arthur smiled deviously before picking up his wife and kissing her neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist and buried her face into his shoulder. He deftly moved her panties and his robes out of the way. He grunted and she threw her head back in pleasure.

A while later, they both found themselves satisfied, entangled in each other on the mossy floor of the orchard. Molly mindlessly drew patterns on her husband's chest. She couldn't help thinking how thin he'd become as her fingers rose and fell with the hills and valleys of his ribcage. Arthur held her close, seemingly afraid that she would disappear if he let go. He caught himself thinking a drink would be nice, but quickly pushed it to the back of his mind. He would much rather be doing this than be passed out drunk somewhere.

Molly walked her fingers up his chest and rested her hand at the base of his neck. She smiled at him seductively. "Ready for another go?"

He grinned back at her before rolling them both over. Molly squealed in delight and surprise.

"Mum! Dad!" George's voice called.

Molly and Arthur both groaned before their eyes went wide. They had completely lost track of time.

" _Mum! Dad!_ " their son called again.

Arthur jumped up then helped his wife. They hastily brushed off and rushed back to where the photographs were being taken.

"We've been looking for you for fifteen minutes!" Percy exclaimed.

"Where have you two -" George stopped abruptly, noticing the state his parents were in. His dad's robes were backwards and his hair was a mess. A twig or two stuck out of his mum's hair and her dress was still hitched up a little, but not enough to see anything, thankfully. Their interlocked fingers were hard to miss.

"Merlin's saggy left –"

"Charlie!" Molly snapped, adjusting her dress.

While Ron wanted to join his older brother, he turned scarlet instead and mumbled a bunch of unintelligible gibberish. Ginny looked about ready to protest like Charlie, but refrained. Percy was either about to blow a gasket or burst into tears; it was hard to tell. However, Desmond winked at Arthur and gave a small laugh.

"This is a first," the young photographer mumbled, red-faced.

A wave of Arthur's wand, and the couple was set right. The spell long since perfected.

They had barely finished taking pictures and dispersed when guests started apparating in the distance. No one said anything else about their parents. It was not the time, but it was obvious most of them did not agree with their sudden reunion.

Molly patted Arthur's sweaty forehead with a tissue and felt it with the back of her hand. He shakily removed her hand. Molly briefly watched his shaking hands. She frowned. "Are you feeling alright?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm probably just nervous, what with…" Arthur nodded to a nearby Auror.

Molly wasn't sure if Arthur even believed what he said. With the past several years, there was no reason to be nervous. Nothing seemed to make him nervous before when they were actively fighting Death Eaters and Voldemort. A few minor threats from dark wizards shouldn't have this effect on him. She nodded. "Okay. Do you feel better from what you told me earlier?" she asked quietly, expecting him to be honest.

Arthur nodded once and forced a small smile. He still didn't feel any different, but he wasn't going to tell her that. Not right now, at least. If he told her how he really felt, it would only upset her again. Apparently, she didn't understand that he couldn't just switch it off. If she asked after the celebrations, he would tell her the truth. Until then, he would put on the mask he was so used to wearing.

Harry and Hermione crossed the field with Ginny and Ron. Conner was close behind. However, while the teens entered the orchard, Conner veered toward the older Weasley couple.

"What are you going to do about him?" Arthur asked, glaring at the other man. "I can tell him to leave if you think it might be a bit awkward to ask him yourself."

Molly's eyes went wide. She had forgotten all about Conner. "What? No, Arthur, he's not going anywhere. It would be rude to ask him to leave, especially with how much he's helped out," she reproached him. "You've never had any issues with me spending time with Kingsley or Remus or Sirius or Hagrid or any other man, for that matter. This is no different."

"There is a difference. I _knew_ all of them. I don't know this bloke. You're probably spending more time with him than you ever did anyone else."

"You spent more time at work or on missions than you ever did at Grimmauld Place."

"Well, you never spent time _alone_ with any of them."

"Do you not trust me?"

"No, I trust you. I do not trust _him_."

"Arthur, I love you," she reassured. "Conner has served as a distraction and has become a good friend in the process. Do you trust me?"

"Yes, that's what I just said."

"Then show it. Love, you are overthinking things. Here, let me talk to him. Go on in. I'll find you in a few minutes," Molly said.

Conner smirked and winked at Arthur while he draped an arm across Molly's shoulders. She smiled up at him. "Everything alright, Molls?" he asked, grinning back at her.

Arthur stalked off. The unpleasant feeling he had about Conner returned stronger than he had ever remembered. The Irishman acted a bit too cocky for his liking.

"You two have a little chat?" Conner asked when Arthur was out of earshot.

"Yes, we had a long talk. He finally opened up and told me he's quit drinking." She watched Arthur enter the orchard. "I actually believe him. I'm giving him another chance."

Conner stared in the direction Arthur stalked off in. "Oh," he said in understanding, furrowing his brow. "Withdrawals."

Molly cocked her head at the Irishman. "I'm sorry. What do you mean?" she inquired.

"Pallor, sweating, shaking hands. He's having alcohol withdrawals. It's probably not too serious, though," Conner explained.

Molly frowned. "He didn't say anything about that. He told me he was nervous."

"Well, he may not realize that's what it is. I can talk to him about it later," Conner suggested.

"I don't think that would be well-received, but I can't stop you," Molly said.

**oOoOo**

Torches lit a path into the center of the orchard. Lights twinkled in the canopy of leaves above the large clearing. Various shades of orange shone through the colorful leaves from the setting sun. Purple and blue roses grew on the arched trellis in front of the chairs. The area quickly filled with people. The chatter drowned out the soft music from the violins and cello.

Arthur greeted family and friends as he weaved his way through the crowd. It was surprising how many people were talking about him or Molly when they thought he couldn't hear them. He was soon roped into a conversation with a colleague from the Ministry. However, he could not focus on what she was saying because all five of his brothers were having a discussion about him several feet away.

"Who woulda thought Arthur would be the one to end up like Dad?" Ian said ruefully.

"My money was on Alexander," Trenton commented with a smile, elbowing his older brother in the side.

Alexander crossed his arms and frowned.

"Cheer up, mate. There's still time."

"Have any of you talked to him recently?" Alexander asked, ignoring his younger brother's inappropriate joke. "He's not been returning any of my owls."

"Not since we went out a while back,' Neil said.

"He wasn't too happy with us after that night." Trenton frowned.

"I saw him at work a couple weeks ago. It looked like he hadn't slept in a month," Ian informed.

"Did he say anything?"

"Not really. Seemed like he was in hurry to get outta there."

"Percy got defensive when I brought it up last night," Desmond commented. "I don't know what's going on with him, but I do not want him around my girls, and he knows that."

"Come on, Desmond. Give him a break," Trenton defended. "He's not had the best year, ya know."

"That doesn't give him an excuse. He could've killed someone the other night," Desmond pointed out vehemently.

"Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. You got into plenty of fights when you were younger, and what happened with Arthur was out of context. Have you even tried talking to him since the funeral?" Trenton asked.

Desmond faltered before arguing, "We didn't make excuses for Dad, so we shouldn't make excuses for him either."

"Septimus was a whole different beast. We have no idea what Arthur's going through. None of us know what it's like to fight in a war or lose a kid, so back off!" Trenton warned.

"We should have made more of an effort to check in," Ian mumbled.

Arthur was finally able to get away from his colleague. He made eye contact with Neil as he approached the group of redheads. Neil cleared his throat to silence his brothers.

"I would have at least thought my brothers wouldn't talk about me behind my back," Arthur shot.

"Turn around then, eh?" Trenton joked.

Arthur glared at him.

"Easy now, Grumpelstiltskin," Trenton chuckled, hoping the reference to the Muggle fairytale would lighten the mood and distract Arthur. It did not.

"Arthur, we are not gossiping. We are concerned," Alexander voiced.

"You haven't answered any of our letters. You've not been yourself when we _have_ seen you," Neil said.

"I've been busy," Arthur dismissed their concern. "I'm managing a department now."

"And getting into bar brawls," Desmond added under his breath.

"Des-" Alexander started, but Arthur beat him to it.

"What do you have against me?"

"You never got in trouble. You never cared about us."

"Are you going to fault me for learning to keep my head down?" Arthur asked.

"You never stuck up for any of us with Dad. At least someone always had your back, but when it came down to it, you only watched out for yourself," Desmond accused.

"I tried taking the heat off you more times than I can count. There was only so much I could do when you acted out _all the time_. It didn't even matter to Septimus. He would use me as a warm-up before moving on to you. Eventually, I figured out keeping quiet was the best tactic"

"You abandoned me. You hardly ever came home for Christmas. The last two summers, you were always with Molly. When you _were_ home, you'd go out with Bilius and Trent. Mum and Dad didn't even notice you were gone. Then you moved out and never looked back."

"What did you expect me to do? Live there until I was twenty-five? It's not like I left you alone. You had Neil and Ian," Arthur reasoned.

"Neil never took anything seriously, and Ian was too busy being a suck-up. Things only got worse for me after _you_ left. You know, you could have checked in. Made sure we were alive, like Alexander did with you."

"I'm sorry, but I did go back. Remember when you were sixteen and Septimus beat you so badly that you were stuck in bed for days and missed the Hogwarts Express?"

Desmond nodded.

"I went to give him a piece of my mind and try to get him to let you live with me and Molly. Do you know what his response was?" His youngest brother remained silent. "He sent me to the hospital with a concussion, three broken ribs, and a punctured lung. I had two kids I had to think about by then. Do I need to apologize for making my own kids a priority?"

Desmond didn't say anything.

" _Do not_ say I never did anything for you," Arthur said with a tone of finality.

"Better to have Arthur than the all-accomplishing Alexander," Trenton mumbled bitterly, arms crossed. "At least, you didn't have to live in his shadow."

"Pardon me, but if you had applied yourself and taken things seriously, you would have done just as well as I did…or at least finished school" Alexander chided.

"Imagine if Alexander was only a year older than you and everything he did was ten times better." Desmond shot a sideways glance at Ian.

"If you weren't so busy bringing negative attention to yourself then you would've had more time to study," Ian shot back.

Soon, it was difficult to differentiate one argument from another between the older generation of Weasley brothers. Luckily, the din from the other guests kept attention away from the quarrelling group. Arthur patted his forehead with the handkerchief and shoved his hands in his pockets. He did not get involved. He remained silent, and no one seemed to notice. _Firewhisky would be good right about now_ , he thought.

"Boys!" a voice called.

The arguing continued.

A sharp, high-pitched whistle sounded over the ruckus. "BOYS!" the voice boomed and gained the attention of the group, as well as some nearby guests. Their grandfather was still a strong, forceful, able-bodied, energetic man – though, now grey-haired and wrinkled – for his age of 108 and still easily commanded authority. However, he only used this tone when he was very upset. Usually, he was jovial and laidback. "What is going on?" he barked.

Alexander, Ian, and Desmond all burst out with unintelligible answers until their grandfather let out a quieter whistle.

He crossed his arms. "How old are you all? Because it doesn't look like you are all in your forties and fifties with kids of your own."

"Sorry, Gramps," all six of them mumbled.

"What started all of this?" Gramps asked.

"Desmond's being an arse again," Neil said.

"He and Arthur got into an argument," Alexander informed, "which seemed to have finished until Trenton opened his big mouth."

"Desmond, do you have anything else to say?" Gramps asked.

"No, sir, I've said my piece."

"Is there anything you'd like to say, Arthur?"

Arthur's head snapped up from staring at his feet when his grandfather spoke to him directly. "No, sir, I'm fine," he answered, avoiding eye contact. This had always been his go-to answer ever since he was a child. His grandfather never seemed convinced, though.

"Trenton?"

"No, sir."

"Arthur, we –" Gramps began, but Molly came to her husband's rescue.

"Alright, Love?" she asked, resting a hand on his left arm and pecking his cheek. He forced a smile and kissed her back. Various greetings came from Arthur's brothers and grandfather which Molly reciprocated. She slid her hand down Arthur's arm to hold his hand, but he let out a yelp of pain and grimaced. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "I'm sorry, dear. I forgot all about that." Molly held his arm instead. "We're almost ready to get started, but Percy needs you."

Grateful for any excuse to get out of that situation, Arthur followed his wife through the crowd and down a narrow path to a small opening in the trees. Percy was there with George, Bill, and Oliver. Molly ushered the young men out, leaving Arthur and Percy in the clearing.

"I'm not ready for this," Percy said, eyes wide.

"Of course, you are," Arthur assured. "Everything is in place. All you have to do is walk down that aisle."

"No, I mean, I'm not ready to get married. What was I thinking?" he panicked.

"You're more ready than I ever was," Arthur admitted.

"You're just saying that," Percy contradicted.

"Alright, if you don't believe me, let me ask you this." He put his hands on his son's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Do you love her?"

Percy nodded. "Without a doubt. But what if nothing I do is good enough? What if I can't give her everything she needs? What if –"

"Son," Arthur interrupted, "life is full of what-ifs. You can't go around doubting yourself. You have to make things happen. I have faith in you, and I can tell she loves you as much as you love her. Everything will be fine. And you can always come to me for advice."

Percy nodded. "Okay."

The muffled noises from the wedding guests died down. The soft sound of the violins and cello took its place.

"Ready now?" Arthur asked.

Percy nodded and took a deep breath. Arthur patted his back. Percy led the way down the narrow path out of the clearing.

**oOoOo**

The ceremony went perfectly. There was no need for Percy to worry all day. His parents walked down the aisle together arm in arm. Little Louisa didn't run out of flowers this time. George was serious and responsible for the first time in his life. And his beautiful bride was the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on as she walked down the aisle to him.

Afterwards, it took a while for everyone to congratulate the young couple, but once guests filtered down the lit path through the field to the marquee, the food and wine magically appeared on the tables. George made a short, but meaningful toast which provoked tears from a few people, including Percy and Molly. After the meal, the guests watched the traditional wedding dances in the middle of the marquee. Before long, everyone was able to mingle or dance, and the marquee buzzed with activity, music, and chatter.

Arthur and Molly made their rounds – Arthur made sure to avoid his grandparents - before they split up. Molly wandered off to occupy Great Aunt Muriel for a while. Arthur ventured over to Neil and Trenton at a table. A few of Arthur's nephews sat at the table as well, but were too involved with their own conversation to pay the older Weasleys any attention.

"Things better with Molly then, eh?" Neil asked, sipping his Firewhisky.

"Things seem to be looking up," Arthur replied vaguely as he slid into an unoccupied seat. He set his hands on the tabletop before he realized they were still shaking. In fact, he could have sworn they had gotten worse. He moved them to his lap and stared intently at his hands, willing them to be still. He got the feeling it was not nerves getting the best of him.

"Gramps wants to talk to you when you get the chance," Neil said.

Arthur looked up. "What?"

"Gramps wants to talk to you," Neil repeated.

"I talked to him earlier. You were there."

"You said half a dozen words to him, at the most," Trenton commented. However, his words went unheard. Arthur was too focused on the bottle of Firewhisky on the table.

"Do you have a cigarette, Trent?" Arthur asked abruptly.

"Always," he replied in a sing-song voice, pulling out the pack and handing one to his younger brother.

As soon as Arthur accepted it, he made a beeline for the exit. He bumped into a few people on his way. The last person he ran into put a hand out to stop him. Arthur looked up. To his dismay, it was Conner.

"Arthur, there's something I wanted –"

Arthur cut Conner off. "Never talk to me unless it's work-related," he warned before pushing past him.

Once outside, it was still nearly impossible to find a secluded spot. People were scattered throughout the yard and garden. Arthur decided to slip into his shed. As soon as he was in, he lit the cigarette with the tip of his wand. He took a long drag and held it in for a few seconds before blowing it out. He still wasn't a big fan of it, but at least he didn't cough this time. He ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes.

He had resisted the urge to drink for two days, albeit it was impossible to drink most of that time since he was in the hospital. He resisted the wine at dinner. He had finally gotten Molly back. He wasn't going to ruin this for Percy. He wasn't going to prove Desmond's point and reinforce what everyone already thought.

Arthur remembered what George had told him, _If you feel like you're about to drink tonight,_ tell me.

After another few minutes, Arthur finished his cigarette and flicked it in the grass on his way back to the marquee. He spotted George dancing with the maid of honor. George laughed with a huge grin on his face as they spun around the dance floor. Cassie swatted his hand away when it wandered below her waist, but she didn't seem too bothered. It was the happiest Arthur had seen George in ages. He couldn't take that away from his son. What was George going to do if he felt like he was going to drink anyway? Besides, Arthur felt a little better. There was no reason to interrupt his son.

Maybe if he found Molly…Arthur didn't see her, but he did see his grandfather headed toward him. He ducked away from Gramps and right into...Muriel. Immediately, she tore into him. Gramps appeared out of the crowd next to them

"Excuse me. Do you mind not speaking to my grandson in that manner?" Gramps said aggressively.

Muriel tutted. "Costin, you have always been bailing those boys out of trouble. You did not raise your own sons right, so you were stuck cleaning up their messes."

Arthur did not hear his grandfather's rebuttal because he took that opportunity to slip away. He found Neil and Trenton again and reclaimed his seat.

"Back so soon, brother?" Trenton asked.

"I'm not in the mood to socialize," Arthur grumbled.

"Well, if you're not in the mood to socialize," Trenton handed a bottle of Firewhisky to Arthur, "then drink." He smirked.

Arthur eyed the bottle in his hand. He swallowed hard. "I can't."

"Of course, you can," Neil said. "The top's already off."

"No. I told Molly –"

"Don't worry. We'll make sure you don't shag anyone this time."

"No, we'll make sure it's _Molly_ this time." Neil winked.

"Seriously, stop," Arthur snapped.

"Fine. More for us then!" Trenton said, taking the bottle back and filling up his and Neil's glasses. They clinked their glasses together and downed them in one go. Trenton filled them up again.

Ignoring his brothers, Arthur took another cigarette from the pack on the table. As he slowly smoked the cigarette, he stared intently at the half-empty bottle, trying to rationalize why it would be okay to drink, but at the same time, trying to talk himself out of it. It was a celebration. His wife and kids weren't around, so they wouldn't know. They would find out somehow, though. He had promised Molly and George, but he hadn't said anything to his other kids. It might lift his mood and make him more sociable. He would probably be able to stop thinking about drinking. It would get his brothers off his back. Arthur didn't even think about how it had nearly killed him.

One glass wouldn't hurt, right?

Arthur gave a start and spun around in his chair when someone touched his shoulder. "Minerva!" he exclaimed, cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

"Arthur, I didn't know you smoked," Professor McGonagall said with a hint of disapproval.

Arthur hastily removed the cigarette from his mouth. "I don't usually," he responded. The tips of his ears grew pink. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this to Molly or the kids."

"Mention what?"

Arthur gave her an appreciative smile.

"Good evening, Professor M," Neil chimed.

Trenton stood. "Beautiful as always, Minnie," he complimented, stumbling a couple steps as he bowed. He fell back into his chair.

Professor McGonagall ignored him and continued her conversation with the more mature Weasley. She eyed the Firewhisky on the table skeptically. "Don't you think you should stay sober tonight?" she asked then lowered her voice, "What with the rumors going around."

"I thought you'd be the last person to believe that garbage Skeeter writes," Arthur said indignantly.

"I meant about the attack," she hissed in his ear.

"Oh, right," Arthur mumbled sheepishly.

"You know, I almost didn't recognize you earlier with that beard." Professor McGonagall scrutinized it out of the bottom of her spectacles. "You make it work."

Arthur got the feeling she wasn't just complimenting his beard. He got the impression that she was studying _him_.

"Do you like my beard, McGee?" Trenton blurted, poking out his chin proudly.

"Should I grow one?" Neil asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Professor McGonagall huffed and rolled her eyes. "I'll talk to you later, Arthur," she said before walking away.

"McGonagall is McGona _gone_!" Neil slurred, earning a fit of laughter from Trenton.

"Can you two not grow up?" Arthur snapped.

"Maybe you should lighten up," Trenton suggested.

"Come on. It's a wedding!" Neil chimed, slinging an arm around Arthur's shoulders.

"It's a celebration!" Trenton exclaimed. He moved to Arthur's other side.

"It's a _party_!" they chorused.

This time, Neil handed Arthur the bottle.

_One drink…one drink won't hurt._

Trenton and Neil cheered when he lifted the bottle to his lips…and chugged. He couldn't help himself.

"Oi! Save some for us," Trenton protested.

Arthur set the bottle down on the table. His brothers were impressed that it didn't faze him. Trenton picked up the bottle and swirled the last bit around the bottom. He squinted at it disapprovingly.

The night progressed. Arthur remained with his brothers. All reservations about drinking disappeared.

"Arthur!" Kingsley's voice gave the older man a start a good while later. Arthur's heart pounded. Kingsley leaned down near him and whispered. "I need a word. Casually walk with me."

When Arthur went to stand, he fell back in his chair. The second try, he got his balance and followed Kingsley.

"Get another bottle on your way back!" Trenton hollered after him.

As soon as the two men were outside, Kingsley cast Muffliato around them. "That wasn't a good idea, was it?" Kingsley asked, calling him out.

"What d'ya mean?" Arthur slurred, trying to play it off even though he was swaying slightly and felt flushed.

"You're drunk, Arthur," Kingsley stated evenly. "What did Mad-Eye drill into us? _Constant vigilance_. You knew there was a threat tonight." He crossed his arms. "That's why I brought you out here. Aurors apprehended several dark wizards and one Death Eater, Thorfinn Rowle, down by the creek about thirty minutes ago. They've been taken to Azkaban, and there were no casualties.

"If they had somehow gotten through the wards, you could have gotten yourself or someone else seriously injured or killed because you were intoxicated. You knew there was a threat, and you ignored it, jeopardizing everyone's safety here."

Guilt washed over Arthur. He hadn't thought of that. "Kingsley, I –"

"You could barely stand up a minute ago." Kingsley took the charm down. "I brought you out here to give you an update, not reprimand you."

On his way back to the table, Arthur grabbed another bottle and a glass from the bar. The threat had been eliminated and he was already drunk, so what was a little more? He noticed his hands were no longer shaking as he poured himself a glass, and he could swear he was only sweating now because of the amount of people in the confined space.

"Hey, Arthur, didn't you say things were alright between you and Molly?" Neil asked.

"Yes, why?" he snapped.

Trenton pointed to the dance floor where Molly danced with Conner. "You might oughta keep a closer eye on her," he said, cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

"They're just friends," Arthur tried to assure his brothers and himself.

"Doesn't look like it, mate," Neil said.

"Looks like she's getting some on the side," Trenton commented.

Muriel came over as Arthur tried convincing himself that he and his brothers were reading too much into it. "Look at yourself! Shaggy beard, long hair. Couldn't even be bothered to clean up for your son's wedding! How shameful!" she griped.

"Go away, Muriel," Arthur scowled.

"You think you're so frightening, but you wouldn't attack a poor old woman."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Desmond scoffed as he passed

However, Muriel did not heed his warning. She continued berating Arthur relentlessly. Arthur focused on the dancing couple while he tried to tune out Muriel on one side and his brothers on the other. The tempo of the music slowed and Molly moved closer to Conner. Their bodies were almost touching. Rage boiled within Arthur.

"I would give that bloke a piece of my mind if that was my wife," Trenton said.

Neil scoffed. "I would have a few words with _my wife_."

Molly rested her head on Conner's chest as they swayed with the beat of the music.

"That would be humiliating," Neil commented, "to have your wife dancing with another man in front of everyone you know. I'm surprised you haven't gone over there yet." He lit a cigarette.

"I think it's wonderful that she finally has someone who cares about her," Muriel said on his other side.

Without a word and without thinking, Arthur finished his drink and cut a winding path through people and tables to Molly and Conner. When he reached them, he put on a huge, fake smile and asked, "Mind if I cut in?" Conner looked to Molly for approval. He let Arthur take over when she smiled and nodded.

The couple began to dance to the slow beat. "You're a little slut, you know that?" Arthur hissed menacingly in his wife's ear. It sent a shiver down her spine. "People have been talking about us all night, He is not helping. _You_ are not helping."

"I don't care what they think, Arthur," Molly stated.

"I'm not going to have some _mick_ playing house with _my_ wife."

Molly's heart sank. She leaned back and looked at him. "Are you drunk?" she asked incredulously.

Arthur ignored her question. "And I am not going to have my wife blatantly lie to me and make me a laughing stock," he growled. His grip tightened on her hand and waist.

Tears sprang to her eyes. She stopped dancing and tried to back away, but his grip only grew tighter. "Arthur, you're hurting me," she choked out.

"Why don't you be honest with me now? If you didn't have feelings for him, you wouldn't care if you stopped seeing him," Arthur accused.

"Let go of me!" Molly ordered. She hit his chest with her free hand. Arthur stopped her by grabbing her wrist.

"Do not do that again," he snarled.

Molly glared back at him fearfully but defiantly. "I will scream if you do not let me go," she threatened. However, she did not have to follow through because Conner came to her rescue.

"Leave her alone, Arthur," Conner commanded from behind the intoxicated redhead.

Arthur shoved Molly into Amos Diggory who helped her regain her balance. This little commotion gained the attention of a few nearby guests. Without a second thought about his wife, Arthur faced Conner. "What are you gonna do about it?" he challenged.

"Hopefully, I won't have to do anything. Don't make more of a scene than you already have. You don't want to do that," Conner advised.

"You don't know me!" Arthur shot

"I've been down this path. It's not pretty, and it only gets worse, Trust me."

"Arthur, listen to him," Molly pleaded.

"Stay out of this, woman!" Arthur snapped. He turned his attention back to the Irishman. "Do you always put your dick in things that don't belong to you? You can't waltz into _my_ house, with _my_ kids, and fuck _my_ wife!" Arthur bellowed, causing everyone to stop dancing and bringing even more attention to them. It did not help that the musicians stopped playing. "She does _not_ belong to you!"

" _I do not belong to anyone_!" Molly objected vehemently as she stepped forward.

"It's not like that, Arthur," Conner assured calmly.

"What are you playing at?" Arthur questioned.

"Nothing," Conner answered simply.

"Arthur, calm down. Why don't we go inside?" Molly suggested.

"No, I am sick of feeling like a fool whenever you tell me there's nothing between you. I demand honest-to-God answers from both of you right now!" Arthur hollered. "Because, Molly, I don't think you've been honest with me. I'm not the only one who has noticed. Everyone else sees there's something more going on."

"Arthur, let's not get into this again. Not right now," Molly said exasperatedly.

"You are going to give me answers _now_!" Arthur demanded. "You may not love him, but you can't deny you feel _something_ for him."

Molly faltered.

Arthur fixed her with a glare that forced her to be honest with herself and her husband. She swallowed hard. "I-I-I…I'm sorry. Y-you're right. Arthur, I-I never intended for that to happen," Molly stuttered. "But I meant what I said earlier," she added quietly.

Arthur's throat closed up and his jaw tightened. It was a good thing his face was already flushed. The hole in his chest ripped wider. His heart ached. His suspicions had been confirmed, but it did not make him feel any better. He couldn't look at his wife a second longer. He aggressively cleared his throat and forced the question, "And you?" to Conner.

"You don't want to know," Conner said.

"I do," Arthur said with such conviction the other man obliged.

"Maybe – I might…feel protective of her," Conner stammered.

" _Complete_ honesty," Arthur barked.

A beat passed before Conner quietly admitted, "I love her…She's kind, caring, and compassionate. She always puts others before herself. I admire the wild streak she tries to hide, but occasionally breaks through." He glanced at Molly. "She is the strongest and most loving person I've ever known. She is beautiful inside and out. She is loyal to a fault and still loves you even after everything you've put her through. I fear you may strip her of that if you continue to mistreat her…Molly deserves better than you," he asserted.

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Arthur flew at Conner. People scattered and chairs clattered as the men collided with the ground. Molly screamed for Arthur to stop. He didn't. Kingsley, who was nearby, rushed over and grabbed Arthur's shoulder to pull him off. However, he got hit in the jaw as the older man came up swinging. The next few punches, Kingsley dodged.

"Arthur!" Kingsley boomed. " _Arthur!_ _Stop!_ "

He didn't listen. Professor McGonagall snuck up behind him and tweaked his ear. She wouldn't let go. She brought Arthur to his knees. Hagrid finally made it through the crowd and picked Arthur up by the back of his robes.

"Put me down!" Arthur ordered, swinging his arms and legs furiously.

Hagrid frowned at the man. "Sorry, can't do tha'."

Molly rushed to a bloodied and disheveled Conner as Hagrid carried Arthur out of the marquee. An infuriated Percy led them into the house. Kingsley and George followed close behind. Once they were in the kitchen, Percy rummaged through a cabinet and took out a Sober-Up Potion.

"Tell him to put me down!" Arthur barked.

"Take this!" Percy ordered, holding out the potion to his father.

"Not until he puts me down!"

"Hagrid will only put you down after you take this!" Percy shouted.

Begrudgingly, Arthur drank the potion. Another couple of minutes passed before Hagrid dropped him into a chair. The full weight of what he had just done tumbled down on him like a mountain of boulders. Ashamed and humiliated were understatements for how he felt. Not to mention the complete and utter despair he felt from his wife's revelation.

Percy paced furiously while George vainly attempted to calm him down. The door creaked and Arthur looked up to see his grandfather enter. To his relief, he stood in the far corner with Kingsley. Finally, Percy apprpached him.

"How could you?" he questioned. "I never thought you would do something like this. I had more faith in you than that. I just _had_ to have you here, but I should have listened to Charlie. I should have told you not to come. If you want to screw everything up for yourself, go for it. But _do not_ bring other people down on your path to self-destruction. Do not speak to me. Do not owl me. I will be the one to decide if we should talk." Percy pushed his glasses up on his nose. "If you'll excuse me, _Father_ , I have a few things to deal with," he said bitterly. He turned on his heel and marched out.

Great. Arthur managed to regress their relationship in a matter of minutes. He couldn't blame his son, though. Although it hurt, he understood.

Before following his older brother, George looked his father in the eye. "You said you'd tell me," he said, not bothering to hide his disappointment.

"I was going to," Arthur mumbled.

George shook his head and walked out.

Molly barged in immediately after. It was clear she was on a warpath. She looked to Kingsley and asked, "Is he sober?"

Kingsley gave a small nod.

The three men in the room flinched as she slapped her husband so hard across the face it turned his head and brought tears to his eyes.

" _Molly!_ " Gramps rebuked, stepping out of the corner.

Molly jerked her head around to glare at him. "Keep your mouth shut or get out of my house, Costin!" she shot. That was the first time Arthur could recall her calling Gramps by his first name. Her little outburst did the trick. Gramps retreated to the corner and did not utter another word.

She wheeled back on Arthur who kept his head down and cowered like a dog being scolded by its master. " _You swore!_ Arthur Weasley, you swore you were done drinking, and I _trusted_ you!" she exploded. Arthur opened his mouth to explain, but Molly cut him off. " _Do not speak_ ," she commanded. "You couldn't go one night without drinking. You would think you'd be smart enough not to drink since it nearly killed you _two days_ ago.

"Your sons are out there doing damage control right now," she informed, pointing toward the window. "You're lucky Conner isn't pressing charges. I wouldn't blame him if he did. I told him it wouldn't bother me if he did, and that he _should_." Molly put her hands on her hips. "You have _humiliated_ this entire family. You practically ruined your son's wedding reception. I can't even begin to imagine how Audrey must feel. And for what?" Arthur still couldn't make himself look at his wife, but he picked up that it was a rhetorical question.

"Your mother may have tolerated this type of behavior from your father, but I am not Cedrella. I will not allow this kind of behavior for any reason. And I do not appreciate the way you spoke to me. I am not an object. I do not belong to you or anyone else. Whatever this – this _crisis_ is that you're having right now, you have to figure it out on your own."

Arthur dared to speak up. "Don't you see?" he said weakly. "That's the problem. I can't do this on my own."

"Find someone else to help you because _I am done_ ," Molly emphasized in order to make Arthur understand how serious the situation had become. "I cannot keep doing this. Neither can the kids. Do not come back – do not even write – until you are the man I've known for the past thirty-some-odd years. Do not come near me or my kids. And if I hear you are writing to Ginny," she made sure he made eye contact with her and threatened in a deadly quiet voice, "that will be the end of you."

Satisfied that she had said what she needed to say, Molly started for the door. Arthur's voice stopped her. "Stop seeing him," he begged weakly.

Molly faced her husband. "I beg your pardon?"

Arthur sat up straight and repeated more firmly, "Stop seeing him."

"No," Molly defied. "There is no reason for you to feel threatened by him. It's not like we are going to act on anything we may feel for each other."

"For _months_ , you have completely disregarded my feelings on this matter."

"What about my feelings when you ran off and slept with that floozy?" Molly retorted.

"I thought we were past that. You forgave me," Arthur said quietly. "Is that why you continued to see him?"

"No."

"Can't you see all the problems he's caused?" Arthur asked. "I wouldn't go off for no reason."

"You have before," Molly stated. She started to walk away again.

"I remember," Arthur stated.

Molly turned back to her husband. "What's that?"

"I remember what set me off the other night. It was him. I can't remember what exactly it was, but it had something to do with him _and_ you."

"It is high time you stopped blaming others and take responsibility for your own actions, Arthur. Straighten yourself out and prove that you are serious about this family and our marriage, _then_ we can have this discussion. Until then, I am going to do what is best for me. If that is spending time with Conner, then that is spending time with Conner." Finally, Molly was able to leave and did not look back.

Arthur put his head in his hands. He tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his left hand. Hagrid looked down at him sadly. Kingsley was going to let Gramps talk with Arthur first, but Gramps insisted Kingsley go ahead. Kingsley pulled out a chair next to Arthur. He sat there and waited for the older man to speak.

"I'm sorry, Kingsley," Arthur apologized, sitting up.

"It's not okay, but I forgive you," Kingsley said. "It seems you have a problem, Arthur."

"I know," he admitted.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Months."

"I'm sorry I never caught on," Kingsley said. "I've been so busy I've neglected what's most important: my friends…family."

Arthur shook his head. "You wouldn't've known."

"Well," Kingsley cleared his throat, "let's get this conversation over with. I'm sure neither of us want to have it."

"Are you firing me?" Arthur asked bluntly.

"No. Not yet, at least. And I hope it never comes down to that." He crossed his arms. "The Ministry has various counselling services available to employees and their families. I'm sure you have seen flyers around the Ministry."

Arthur nodded. He did not like where this was going.

"You decide which type suits your needs best – grief, alcohol, anger management, or one of the others. They are at different times throughout the day as well. You can get more information from the flyers. I am requiring you to attend at least two meetings a week."

"Kingsley, I can't do that."

"You are going to have to."

"They'll all know me there. We were on the front page for weeks."

"It's anonymous. And you may know some people there. Everyone there is there for the same reason. There's nothing to be ashamed of," Kingsley assured. "Yours is just more public."

"I can't talk about my problems with those people. Molly has a hard enough time getting me to open up with her."

"I'm not saying you have to say anything. Go and listen. At some point, you may find yourself comfortable enough to share."

"It doesn't work that way with me," Arthur argued.

"You have to go. I'm asking you as a friend and telling you as your boss. Arthur, you are a liability," he stated bluntly. "I can't have Ministry employees, especially department heads, running around assaulting people."

"Okay," Arthur conceded.

Kingsley stood. "And I want you to check in with me once a week. That's not mandatory. I just want to make sure you're doing alright. Let me know if I can do anything to help."

Kingsley left. Hagrid followed, sensing the threat of another aggressive outburst was gone. Arthur stood to leave also, but Gramps put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him.

"Sit down, son," Gramps said gently.

Arthur refused to make eye contact. He couldn't face his grandfather after what he had done. His grandparents taught him better than that. That was why he had been avoiding them all night. "I have something I need to do. Tell Gran I hate I missed her tonight," Arthur said quietly.

Gramps sighed as he watched his broken grandson walk out.

Stares and whispers followed Arthur as he made his way through the marquee. He grabbed a glass and a spoon then stood on a chair. He clinked on the glass. The people around him became silent and gave him their attention. A ripple effect spread throughout the guests until you could hear a quill drop.

"Excuse me!" Arthur cleared his throat. Now, his face was red with embarrassment instead of rage. "My family is probably sick of hearing this, but I'm going to say it anyway. I would like to apologize for my behavior tonight. I would especially like to apologize to my son and his beautiful bride. I hope you all enjoy the rest of your night. Thank you." He stepped down off the chair and got out of there as quickly as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own McGonagall's nicknames. They came from a tumblr post.


	31. Shut Down

When Arthur entered his flat, he was relieved George cleaned up earlier that day. The coffee table was repaired, letters sitting neatly on top. The mess and broken glass cleaned up. All Old Ogden's bottles and takeaway containers had been vanished by Ginny that Friday evening. The only alcohol in the place was the little bit left in his flask, which had been stowed in the back of a high cabinet.

Immediately, Arthur went into the bathroom. Even though he had just showered several hours earlier, he felt absolutely filthy. He stripped and tossed his clothes into a corner. The water was almost scalding hot when he stepped in.

Instead of reaching for the soap, he rested his forehead against the tile. The water soaked his hair and beard before running down the rest of his body. Tears soon mingled with the hot water. His body wracked with sobs. How could he have been so selfish and uncaring? How could he let things spiral so far out of control?

He couldn't remember the last time he cried like that. It had to have been when they brought Fred into the Great Hall.

Eventually, he took several deep breaths. Eyes closed, he lifted his face toward the showerhead and let the water run down his face. He wasn't sure how long he had been in there already, but he didn't much care. There was nowhere he needed to be. No one was waiting on him.

No matter how much he scrubbed or how much soap he used, he still felt disgusting. He only got out of the shower when cold water forced him to.

After he dried off, he dug out his pajama bottoms from somewhere in the chest of drawers. Since some time when Ginny and Harry were living with him, he had taken to sleeping in his clothes on the couch every night.

Once he slipped into them and tied the drawstring to keep them from falling down, he went back into the bathroom to brush his teeth. The mirror had defogged. A glint from his necklace caught his the reflection. This drew his attention to his scarred, pale chest. He brushed the marks the snake had left with his fingertips. He thought how everyone else would be better off if the Order hadn't reached him in time. If he had known how badly everything would go, how he would hurt everyone he cared about, how alone he would be, he wouldn't have prayed so hard that night in the Department of Mysteries.

He tore his gaze from the scars. A blue-eyed stranger stared back at him in the mirror. For the first time in a long time, he actually _looked_ at himself, but no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't recognize himself. He wondered how no one had mentioned the change in his appearance. Perhaps, they didn't even notice. Dark circles under his eyes revealed how little he slept. The big, bright, sky-blue eyes that once gleamed and glinted had become sunken, bloodshot, dull, and empty. His face was red and blotchy with more wrinkles than he remembered. He absolutely loathed the beard. It made him appear years older – Or maybe that was just how he looked those days. Either way, the beard served its purpose even though his weight-loss could be seen in other areas. He came to the conclusion that people had to have noticed. They must have been too polite to say anything.

Having forgotten what he had gone back into the bathroom for, Arthur grabbed his watch off of the sink. He set it on the bedside table before crawling into bed. It wasn't late yet, but he was exhausted and saw no point in doing anything else.

He pulled the duvet up over his shoulders and clutched the Knut at the end of his necklace.

**oOoOo**

At the Burrow the next day, Conner came over for lunch. The night before, everything was too fresh and Molly was too exhausted to have any sort of deep discussion. Since Hermione was back at Hogwarts and Ron was at Auror training, this was the most opportune time for the two to talk.

Molly and Conner sat at the kitchen table with mugs of tea in front of them.

Conner was the first to speak. "I don't regret what I said last night. I meant every word," he said. "But when I saw you in that apothecary, I only meant to help. I didn't intend to – to fall in love with you," he finished in a whisper. "I should have taken a step back when I realized I was developing feelings for you. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. You can't help how you feel," Molly assured. "I may have sent some signals that indicated I wanted something more than friendship – and, perhaps, I did, but that cannot happen."

"I'm sorry I caused so many problems between you and your husband," Conner apologized. "I know how much you loved him."

"I still love him, _deeply_ ," she corrected. "And I fear I may have been too hard on him last night. I lost my temper and it wasn't only his fault. It was mine, too."

Conner set his mug down. "Molly, he's the one who got drunk and was being unreasonable. You trusted him. He lied to you."

Molly shook her head. "No, I don't think he did this time. I think he really did want to stop drinking. You know, his brother, Bilius, tried quitting a few times, but never could manage it. I left Arthur alone last night. Hours passed and I never even thought to check on him. What did I expect would happen?"

Conner sighed. "I have to admit, he did better than I would have in a situation like that at a day sober," he confessed.

Molly tucked some hair behind her ear. Staring at her tea, she said, "I think we should stop seeing each other." She looked at the Irishman and added, "Not altogether. Just not as often. I still enjoy having you as a friend, and I don't want to lose that."

"I understand," Conner said. "And if you ever need anything, you know I'll be there in a second."

**oOoOo**

Arthur awoke to an owl incessantly pecking at his window. With a groan and a lazy wave of his wand, he cast a silencing charm. The pecking stopped. He picked up his watch to check the time, but his hands shook so badly he had to set it back down to read it. Some sweat dripped from his forehead into his eyes, causing his vision to become blurry. He couldn't tell exactly what time it was, but it was late afternoon. He dropped his head back down on the pillow and pulled up the covers. Why bother getting up if he had already missed most of the work day? He wasn't much in the mood for pretending he couldn't hear people talking about him anyway.

Night came and went several times. Arthur remained in bed. Owls that came to the window went unheard. His watch went unread. Knocks at the door went unanswered. Eventually, the shaking and sweating subsided then ended. He didn't have the motivation to eat or to even get up for a drink.

One time when he ignored knocking at his door, it turned into a loud banging. A calm, thundering voice called, "Arthur! Arthur, it's Kingsley! I'm coming in!"

As much as Arthur hated to see anyone, he couldn't make himself get up to stop Kingsley. He would much rather be left alone. A minute passed and Kingsley stood in the doorway to his bedroom. Arthur did not move or greet him.

Kingsley crossed his arms. "Well, at least you're alive," he said evenly.

Arthur wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a joke or if he was being serious. Either way, he did not find it amusing.

"Are you ill?" Kingsley asked.

Arthur shook his head almost imperceptibly.

Kingsley narrowed his eyes. "Did you go on a bender?"

Again, Arthur shook his head so slightly Kingsley almost missed it.

Kingsley sat in a nearby chair. "What's going on?" he asked gently. "You've missed an entire week of work. You're not answering your door or any letters."

In response, Arthur rolled over. He didn't have the strength to speak.

Kingsley leaned forward in his seat. "Arthur," he prodded.

Getting the impression Kingsley would not leave him be, Arthur forced out a very weak, "Go."

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

Sure enough, Kingsley did not budge. Through the window, the sun set before he made another move. He stood. "Do I need to get Molly?"

"Don't," Arthur replied weakly, still not facing the other man.

Kingsley shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know what else to do, Arthur," he stated before leaving.

Arthur couldn't make himself stop Kingsley. At least he was alone again. He closed his eyes and hoped sleep would overtake him.

**oOoOo**

A garden gnome ran in front of Kingsley as he walked the path to the back door of the Burrow. He kicked it in frustration. With a yelp, the gnome ran under a bush. Molly opened the door before he even reached the porch.

"Kingsley! What a nice surprise," Molly greeted.

Kingsley frowned. "I fear you may not think so when I tell you why I'm here," he confessed.

Molly's demeanor changed to match his solemn one. "Oh? Why is it that you're here?" she inquired, ushering him into the house. When they entered the kitchen, she made Ron go upstairs and fixed Kingsley a plate while he took a seat. Dinner in front of him, she sat as well.

"Arthur missed work every day this week," Kingsley began.

"Arthur doesn't live here right now," Molly interrupted.

"I know. I got that impression Sunday. And Arthur hasn't updated his personnel file, so I found out from George where he is staying. When he didn't respond to any owls or answer his door, I took the liberty to let myself in – just to make sure nothing had happened to him."

Molly twirled her wedding ring around her finger, worry etched on her face. "Is he alright?" she asked slowly.

"I'm not sure," Kingsley said grimly. "It doesn't look like he has been out of bed at least all day, maybe even all week. He barely spoke. The only two words he said to me, it seemed took all his strength."

"He's probably just drunk or hungover and doesn't have any potion," Molly said bitterly.

"No, that is not what this is. I have never seen anyone like this. That's why I thought I should tell you. I know you two aren't on the best terms, but if you see him and talk to him, maybe you could pull him out of it."

"Believe it or not, I do still love him, with all of my heart, and I don't want to hurt him more than I have. That is why I can't help him. If I go to him, he may take that as forgiveness or that I'm ready to try again. I'm not. What he did Sunday, that's going to take time. And whenever we take a step forward, things get ten times worse."

"Is there anything I could I do?" Kingsley asked. "Has this happened before?"

Molly shook her head, lips pressed in a thin line. "Arthur has never shut down like this, not that I know of." She rubbed her forehead. "His grandparents, especially his grandfather, know him better than anyone, even me. If this has happened before, they would know." She stood and retrieved a pen and notepad from the counter. She scribbled an address and tore off the piece of paper. "Here," she said, handing the paper to Kingsley, "they live in the countryside in Gloucestershire - Costin and Irene Weasley."

Kingsley read the address before standing and putting it in his pocket. Molly walked him to the back door.

"Kingsley," she said, "keep me updated?"

"Of course, Molly," he assured before walking back down the dirt path.

**oOoOo**

In an instant, Kingsley found himself in the middle of a field with a large farmhouse in front of him. Instead of the house growing up, like the Burrow, it grew out and consisted of two stories. He could barely make out the silhouette of a barn in the distance.

He spun around and drew his wand when a loud noise came from behind him. He let out a deep breath when he realized it was just a bull. However, he stiffened when it approached him and huffed. A sheepdog ran out of the darkness and between them. Slowly, he backed up to the house and did not turn around until he was on the porch.

He knocked on the door. A moment later, it opened to reveal the man he knew to be Arthur's grandfather, though they hadn't officially met. The dog darted into the house.

"Oops, sorry," Costin said as he watched the dog run in and lie on the couch. "Minister Shacklebolt," he said, eyebrows furrowed, when he turned around and saw who was at the door. "To what do we owe this honour?"

"Please, call me Kingsley," he said with a smile. "I am not here in that capacity, so treat me how you would anyone else."

"Of course. My apologies." Costin stepped back and opened the door wider. "Do come in."

Kingsley obliged. The bull nudged him in the back. He hadn't realized the beast followed him onto the porch and halfway into the house. Costin shooed the bull back out and closed the door.

"I'm sorry about that. Old Thomas wouldn't hurt a fly, but he sure looks scary, doesn't he?" he chuckled. "Damn thing thinks he's a dog." He stuck out his hand. "Costin Weasley," Costin introduced himself, shaking Kingsley's hand. "Arthur's grandfather, as I'm sure you already know."

"Yes, it is nice to officially meet you. I hope I am not interrupting."

"No, of course not." Costin waved off his concern. "My wife is in the kitchen making tea if you would like a cup," he offered.

"If it's no trouble."

"I already have it," a grey-haired witch said as she bustled out of the kitchen, levitating a tray with milk, sugar, and three steaming, mismatched mugs of tea in front of her. "Come on. Let's not just stand around."

The two men followed her into the sitting room. The tray carefully set itself down on the worn coffee table.

"I'm Irene," she told Kingsley cheerily.

"Kingsley," he reciprocated and gently shook her hand.

Introductions out of the way, they each took a mug. Costin nudged the sheepdog called Sid off of the couch before he and Irene sat. Kingsley took the armchair.

"So, Kingsley, what brings you here?" Costin prompted as he added a splash of milk to his tea.

"Well, I was hoping you could shed some light on a situation. Molly said I should talk to you."

"Is this about Arthur?" Irene asked, cradling her mug. Kingsley noticed it had a smiley-face sun and "Best Grandma" clumsily painted on it. Every few seconds, it changed color.

Kingsley nodded.

"I'm not sure we could be much help. He's been rather aloof lately."

"I daresay he's been avoiding us," Costin added with a heavy sigh.

"From what I can gather, it's more of something that may have occurred when he was younger," Kingsley clarified. "He seems to have…shut down, in a sense. He hasn't been at work. He's been in bed and will barely communicate."

The older couple shared a look and grim expressions.

"You know," Kingsley stated.

They nodded.

Costin cleared his throat and set his plain, blue mug down. "His mother suddenly passed away just before Christmas break his…" he thought briefly, "sixth year." Irene nodded in confirmation. "Needless to say, they came home a bit early - Arthur and Neil, that is. They were the only ones at Hogwarts that year," Costin clarified. "Anyway, Arthur, Neil, Ian, and Desmond stayed with us for a few weeks."

"Their father was unable to take care of them for a while," Irene put in. "It didn't help that the boys were convinced her death was caused by their father. Nothing was ever proven and Ian and Desmond were already in bed when it happened, so no one saw exactly what happened. But the fall woke up Desmond, and he saw Septimus standing over her, reeking of alcohol as usual. Poor boy was only nine. He's had a chip on his shoulder ever since. Anyway, all we know for sure is that Cedrella fell down the stairs."

"However, Septimus had more than his fair share of outbursts, so it isn't unreasonable to assume. We never could figure out why, but he was an angry child which caused him to become an angry and _violent_ man." Costin frowned.

"The boys could have turned out very differently if Septimus wasn't the way he was. Even though we didn't have the money, we would have taken in all seven of those boys, but Cedrella was not going to have any of it. After she died, Septimus put up more of a fight for them than we expected," Irene said.

"And back in those days, it was still believed what happened between a man and his family was their business alone. Besides, my dad was a drunk and my brothers and I turned out alright," Costin added.

"I'm sorry," Irene apologized. "We went off on a tangent. You didn't care to know all of that."

"It's fine. Really," Kingsley assured. He took a sip of his tea. Sid the sheepdog came up to him and sniffed the mug when he lowered it. He moved the mug out of its reach and scratched its head.

"As a child, Arthur tended to act out," Costin continued. "When he became a teenager, he was quiet, so it was not unusual that particular Christmas break when he kept to himself."

"We did check on him, and his brothers, of course," Irene chimed in. "They had just lost their mother, after all. Arthur always said he was fine. Neither of us believed him. We just kept a closer eye on him. He spent more and more time in his bedroom here. One day, he wouldn't come out. He wouldn't talk. He wouldn't eat."

Arms crossed, Costin scowled at the sugar bowl. "He didn't even move," he mumbled bitterly.

Irene rested a hand on her husband's knee. "We had a healer come out the next day, but he didn't find anything wrong. Costin had to work, so I watched the boys. Eventually, I was able to coax Arthur out of bed. Afterwards, he acted like nothing had happened. Like he merely had a cold."

"Then several years later, after he and Molly were married and already had two kids, it happened again. They couldn't agree on how to handle an extremely delicate situation, so he stayed here for a few days. That was the second, and only other time, he completely – How did you put it?" Costin asked.

"Shut down?" Kingsley offered.

"Shut down, that we know of. He made us swear never to mention it to Molly." He took a sip of tea. "And unless he told her about when he was sixteen, she wouldn't know about that either."

Kingsley got the feeling that there was more to that second instance than Arthur's grandparents were telling, but it was none of his business anyway. He took a deep breath. He would have never guessed Arthur Weasley had such a dark past. His jovial disposition and family-oriented mindset masked any disturbing secrets.

The older man rarely spoke of his time growing up, but when he did, they were happy memories. It hit him that he couldn't remember a time that Arthur spoke about his parents or grandparents. He never gave much thought as to why Arthur could easily fade into the background at Order meetings or get-togethers. Kingsley always assumed he was just a quiet person sometimes. Having been told all of this, Kingsley felt like he was invading Arthur's privacy. He hadn't expected his grandparents to go into so much detail.

"Thank you, for enlightening me," Kingsley said, setting his empty mug down. "Is there anything I can do to help him through this?"

"There's not much anyone can do, I'm afraid," Irene answered solemnly. "We'll go sit with him."

"Yes," Costin agreed. He stood. Irene and Kingsley were on their feet soon after. He shook Kingsley's hand. "Thank you for letting us know. He is lucky to have a friend like you."

Kingsley smiled. "Do you need his new address?" he asked.

"No, Molly gave it to us earlier this week."

The trio walked to the front door.

Before departing, Kingsley asked them to keep him informed. The couple offered to take the responsibility of updating Molly as well. The large bull had taken up residence on the porch, so Kingsley tip-toed around him.

**oOoOo**

The flat was dark when Costin and Irene arrived. Costin turned on a lamp in the bedroom while Irene took up residence on the edge of the bed. Arthur was asleep, but the expression on his face showed it was far from peaceful.

"Should we wake him?" Irene asked.

Costin studied his grandson's bare torso where the covers had slid down. It could have been a trick of the light or how he was lying, but Costin thought he could just make out the outline of a few ribs. He frowned. "He needs to eat something," he responded.

Irene patted Arthur's leg and softly called his name in an attempt to wake him while Costin looked in the kitchen for something Arthur could eat. A few moments later, Arthur's eyes fluttered open and Costin came back empty-handed.

Arthur was lying on his back, but his face was away from the door. Costin quietly asked if he was awake. Irene nodded.

"His kitchen is empty. I'm going back to the house to get him something. Tomorrow, I'll go by the store," Costin informed as he walked around the bed where his wife sat. He kissed her on the cheek and whispered in her ear, "See what you can do while I'm gone." He patted Arthur's foot on his way out.

Irene tried to get him to sit up. He wouldn't. She tried to get him to talk. He wouldn't. She tried to get him to look at her. He wouldn't. When Costin came back with a bag of sandwiches, he wouldn't eat. Nothing they tried worked. Eventually, Arthur closed his eyes again, but it was unclear if he did that to get them to leave him alone or if he fell back asleep.

They sat with him for a few hours before Costin transfigured the couch into a bed and insisted Irene get some sleep. It was another couple of hours before he joined her.

It took two days before they made any progress with their grandson. Between the attempts at getting him up or getting him to at least eat, Irene rambled on and on about the family: Arthur's brothers, and nieces and nephews, and great-nieces and great-nephews. It distracted him somewhat from his own thoughts and prevented him from sleeping. However, the incessant rambling annoyed the hell out of him.

"Shut up," Arthur croaked when he finally had enough.

Irene abruptly stopped talking. Thinking she misheard or imagined it, she looked down at him skeptically.

"Leave me alone."

She smiled sadly at him. Running her fingers across the side of his face and pushing hair out of his eyes, she quietly said, "There's the voice I've wanted to hear."

"Will you leave now?" he asked, his voice rusty from disuse.

"Not until you're up, showered, dressed, and eaten."

"Not until you leave."

"It seems we are at an impasse then," Gran said. It wasn't long before she continued her story about the bull that thought he was a dog. "This summer, I was out in the garden and your grandfather was napping inside. You know we leave the doors open in the warm months to let some fresh air in. The next thing I know, there's a shout from inside the house. I rush in, and see your grandfather with Thomas trying to climb in his lap with Sid."

Arthur groaned and covered the side of his head with the pillow.

Gran moved the pillow. "Oh, you always love these stories," she said.

"Not when you talk continuously," he griped.

"Why don't you sit up and I'll make you a sandwich then?" she suggested, giving his leg two pats before going into the other room, allowing no room for him to protest.

Arthur did not want to get up or eat, but he knew Gran would not leave him alone if he didn't. Don't get him wrong. He loved both of his grandparents and was thankful for them, but he was not in the mood. Slowly, he pulled himself up. He propped up against the headboard. This small action told him how stiff he was.

"There we go!" Gran said cheerily as she came in with a sandwich and glass of water. "Doesn't that feel better?"

"No," Arthur said. He drank most of the water in one go, so Gran refilled it. He stared at the sandwich in his lap. "Where's Gramps?"

"He left a while ago to take care of the animals."

Arthur picked up the ham sandwich and sniffed it.

"You need to eat," his grandmother told him.

"Not hungry," he mumbled.

"That's impossible. You haven't eaten in Merlin knows how long. Take a few bites."

Reluctantly, Arthur obeyed.

"How long have you been like that?" Gran asked seriously.

Arthur swallowed the flavorless bite of sandwich. "Like what?"

"You know what I mean," she deadpanned.

"You could mean a number of things," he rebutted.

"How long have you been lying in bed like that?" she clarified.

Arthur shrugged and choked down another bite. "When was the wedding?"

"You've been like that for a week?" Gran asked in disbelief with furrowed eyebrows.

"S'pose so."

"Why?"

Arthur shrugged again. He put the half-eaten sandwich on the plate and took the glass of water.

"You have had me, your grandfather, Kingsley, and Molly worried sick."

Arthur's eyebrows knit together. "If Molly was so worried, where is she?" he asked harshly.

"I don't know her reasons, Love, but I do know she cares about you and loves you."

Arthur shook his head. "I'm not talking about this." He stood up and stretched. A few joints popped.

"Where are you going?" Gran asked as he left the room.

"Shower," was his short reply.

"You need to stop running away," Gran said, following him. "You've done that your whole life."

Arthur turned on his heel to face her. "That's not true! I fought in a bloody war. You didn't see me running away then," he argued.

"I don't mean physical threats, Sweetheart. You weren't allowed to process your emotions as a child, and that carried over into adulthood. But it is past time for you to deal with this. No one will hurt you if you express your feelings."

"You think I don't know that? I know Septimus isn't going to come back from the dead and beat me because I'm not happy." He stared her down, but she stared back just as fiercely. "This conversation," he gestured between them, "is over. You can show yourself out," he added before shutting the bathroom door in his grandmother's face.

Gran was right about one thing. The hot water loosened up his muscles and joints. Getting a shower made him feel better in general. He trimmed his beard and brushed his teeth, too. Well, Arthur had to admit she was right about more than that, but he wouldn't let her know that.

When he came out of the bathroom, it was a good thing he had a towel wrapped around his waist because Gran was still there.

"I thought I told you to leave," he said softly.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," Gran stated.

She gave him a minute to put on some pants, but was right back in the bedroom afterwards. Arthur put on a button-up shirt. Seeing how baggy it was on him, Gran offered to cast a temporary charm to shrink it a little. Arthur refused. When he put on his watch and it spun loosely around his wrist, she offered to adjust it.

"No," Arthur replied.

"It will be aggravating," she reasoned.

"What's aggravating right now is you," Arthur snapped. Immediately, he regretted it. "I'm sorry, Gran," he apologized and sat next to her on the freshly-made bed with clean sheets. He held out his wrist to her. She muttered and tapped the watch. It became snug on his wrist.

"Better?" she asked.

Arthur felt the watch. "Yes, thank you." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

They sat in a brief silence until Gran said, "Come and live with me and your grandfather for a while."

Arthur looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "So you can keep an eye on me?"

"Yes," Gran answered frankly. Good old Gran, always direct. Arthur wished Molly would be blunt like that sometimes.

Arthur shook his head. "No, look, I'm fine now. I'm up. I ate something. Everything is fine," he assured.

"You do not need to be alone right now," Gran stated firmly.

"You have great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren coming through all the time. I don't need to be around them," Arthur said, fidgeting with his wedding band.

"Don't you even think that," Gran said, squeezing his knee. "Besides, you'll be at work all day and they'll be gone before you get home most days."

"Okay. What if I come in drunk one night and get into it with Gramps or – or hit you?" he asked quietly. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes.

Gran patted his shoulder to gain his attention. When he looked over at her, she half-teased, "Don't you worry about that. I won't hesitate to hex you."

This provoked a smirk to tug at the corner of Arthur's mouth. "That'll deter me. Merlin knows, I've had enough of that the past few years."

Gran smiled. "Now, let's see about getting some tea and a decent lunch in you before getting you packed." She squeezed his shoulder as she stood.

"Gran," Arthur said.

She turned around.

"Thank you."


	32. A Dreadful Monday

At his grandparent's house, Arthur lay wide awake in his old bedroom, his feet hanging off the end of the bed. Well, it wasn't only his room. Several generations of Weasleys had claimed this room as theirs. The furniture and layout hadn't changed, but toys, knickknacks, and posters had. He noticed the model car he had as a child still sat on the bookshelf. Over the years, he still visited his grandparents frequently, but stopped going into his bedroom because there was no reason to.

All night, he tossed and turned with no luck of falling asleep.

Finally, he heard muffled voices and the clatter of dishes downstairs. Had he managed not to get a wink of sleep? It was still too early for the sunrise, but his watch told him it was already 6:20. He lay there a few more minutes before he threw the covers back and sat up. After debating on whether to get dressed, shower, or throw on his house robe, Arthur decided on the shower.

When he went downstairs, the sun had begun peeking through the windows. He finished buttoning up his shirt as he entered the kitchen. This time when Gran offered to temporally charm his clothes to shrink a little, he accepted.

"I didn't expect you to be up so early," Gran commented.

"I never went to sleep," Arthur replied. "Tried to, but..." He shrugged.

"I'm not surprised. You haven't had a regular sleep pattern."

Arthur looked out of the window at the barn while he rolled up his sleeves. "Is Gramps already at it?" he asked.

"He still likes to get started first thing in the morning," Gran said as she set a steaming mug of tea fixed just how Arthur liked on the kitchen table.

Arthur hummed in response. The barn doors opened and a herd of sheep wandered out.

He brought himself away from the window and found his place at the table.

"After you eat, you should see if he'd like some help," Gran suggested, setting three heaping plates of bacon, sausage, and eggs in the center of the table. She took the liberty of filling up Arthur's plate.

"Another day maybe," he said. "I'm heading into work early today."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Gran asked. "Kingsley said to take as long as you need."

Arthur swallowed a forkful of eggs. "I'm not going to take advantage of being friends with the Minister."

"That wouldn't be taking advantage."

"Well, I have a lot to catch up on."

"I better make you a lunch, then," Gran said resolutely and set to making him three sandwiches. Arthur was ready to protest, but reminded himself it was no use with Gran. He would take the sandwiches and do his best to eat all three.

Gran sat down with him after making his lunch. Every now and then, she would put a few more pieces of bacon, a sausage, or some more eggs on his plate.

The fireplace roared to life in the sitting room. Gran bustled out of the kitchen to meet the new arrival. A few seconds later, Penelope and Louisa came in unaccompanied.

"Good morning," Penelope yawned as she took a seat at the table.

Arthur couldn't help but chuckle. "Taking a while to wake up?" he asked.

Penelope gave a small nod as she nibbled on some bacon.

Little Louisa, on the other hand, was wide awake and full of energy. Arthur let her hop into his lap, pigtails bouncing. She, too, reached for a slice of bacon. Since the main plate was out of her reach, she settled for one off her uncle's plate. Arthur didn't mind. He had eaten more than he could and felt like he had barely made a dent.

"No!" Arthur heard Desmond blurt from the other room. He was certain Gran told his brother about the new living arrangement.

A few minutes late, Gran came back in. Desmond remained in the doorway.

"Arthur," he greeted with a tight smile.

"Relax, Desmond," Arthur said. He picked up Louisa as he stood and set her back down in the chair. "I was just leaving." He grabbed the bag with his lunch and said good-bye to Gran and the girls.

"Oh, Arthur," Gran said as she remembered something, "dinner will be ready at 6:30. Will you be home by then?"

"I don't think so. I thought I would look into something Kingsley mentioned," he answered.

Desmond followed him out of the kitchen. He seized the opportunity when Arthur stopped to summon his traveling cloak and put it on. "Another outburst like last weekend, and you will _never_ see those girls again," Desmond warned in a hiss.

Ian and his youngest, 9-year-old Marie, came in the front door just then. Their expressions softened while they greeted their niece. As soon as she went into the kitchen, their smiles returned to glares.

"Alright, chaps?" Ian asked cautiously as he rested a hand on each of their shoulders. Desmond and Arthur both turned their glares on him, causing him to remove his hands and take a step back.

Arthur looked Desmond in the eye. "I'm sober now," he stated firmly.

Desmond scoffed. "We'll see how long that lasts," he sneered. He left Arthur and Ian at the door to join the others.

Ian frowned and shook his head. The two older brothers stared after the younger.

"Well," Ian said. He patted Arthur's shoulder then hesitated. He gripped his shoulder and studied his older brother. Ian frowned again. "Are you alright?"

Arthur shrugged Ian's hand off his shoulder. "I'm fine."

Ian didn't look convinced. "Well," he began again, "don't take Desmond seriously. It's nothing personal. He's had a problem with all of us at some point since Dad died. It's like if he can't be angry with Dad, he has to find someone else to be angry with."

"He has a legitimate reason this time," Arthur mumbled.

"Give me a few minutes and we can go into work together," Ian said with a smile.

"I'm going in early –"

"I always go in early," Ian said with a wave. "Just let me grab some of that sausage first." Without giving Arthur a chance to respond, he hurried into the kitchen.

Arthur rolled his eyes. For Ian to be such a perfectionist, he could be quite scatterbrained at times. "No, Ian," he called, "we are not going into work together. I'm leaving now."

Ian popped his head out of the kitchen. He cocked it. "Aww, I was kind of excited about that," he said with a hint of disappointment.

The way Ian reminded him of a lost puppy – something Ian perfected when they were kids – gave Arthur a pang of guilt. "How about we plan on tomorrow?" Arthur suggested.

Ian's face lit up. "Okay!" he agreed then he disappeared back into the kitchen.

**oOoOo**

The Ministry was fairly empty. Arthur only passed a handful of people on his way to the Minister's office. None of them seemed to pay him any attention, thankfully.

As he entered the outer office, he was relieved to see that Percy had yet to arrive. Arthur knocked on the door to the Minister's inner office. Kingsley's deep, booming voice called for him to enter.

"Arthur!" Kingsley beamed. He made his way around his desk and enveloped the other man in a hug, slapping his back instead of patting it. Arthur hugged him back, but not as fiercely. "You didn't have to come in today," he said, stepping back.

"I needed to," Arthur replied. "I also need to thank you," he said sincerely.

Kingsley raised his eyebrows. "I didn't do anything."

"You cared," Arthur quietly said then looked away and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, I was wondering what to do about last week - workwise."

"You could put some sick days toward last week. You've saved up a lot over the years," Kingsley suggested, going along with Arthur's subject change. "Perkins stepped up last week and got a good bit of the minor things taken care of for the department, so you're not as far behind as you may think, and I'm sure he could catch you up on the specifics."

Arthur nodded. That was good of Perkins. They had worked together for nearly thirty years and had been friends just as long. He had been counting on that work to keep him distracted, though. Nonetheless, he would make sure to thank Perkins.

Kingsley leaned on his desk. "There has also been a reassignment. You have a new liaison with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," he informed.

That was a relief. Arthur didn't care how it happened or who initiated the change. If it meant he didn't have to see that McGrath bloke again, he was all for it.

"Now, I wanted to give you a heads up." Kingsley crossed his arms. "The man from the Hog's Head came in last week." Arthur's heartrate quickened. He sat in one of the leather chairs in front of Kingsley's desk and rubbed his face while he listened to the rest. "He wants to press charges. _However_ , I managed to convince him to give it another week and think it over some more. I made sure he knew that you're a good man that is going through a lot right now – without details, of course - but this is an unsavory character. I told him I would let him know when you were back at work. So, you shouldn't be surprised to see us in your office at some point today. No one else has come forward and you're lucky Aberforth is a friend, so you should be fine on those fronts."

Arthur should have expected someone to press charges. With Rita Skeeter telling that he was no a department head, it would make him more desirable to sue. However, he couldn't blame the man if he wanted to sue, unsavory character or not. Arthur nodded as he stood. "Okay. Thank you," he said.

"There's one more thing, Arthur," Kingsley said, standing up straight. "Our deal."

Arthur sighed. "Counselling twice a week and checking in with you once a week," he recited.

"And," Kingsley summoned a stack of slips of paper from a drawer, "you need to have one of these signed after each session. Whenever you check in with me, you can give me the two slips for that week, or the previous week, depending on when you decide to go."

Arthur took the stack and frowned. Kingsley didn't trust him either? Well, he was strongly against the idea when it was brought up – and still was to an extent.

As if sensing what Arthur was thinking, Kingsley said, "Arthur, I do trust you," he assured, "but this is needed for documentation. You are not the only person who has to do this. The only reason you are turning it into me is because you are a department head. It will also help in the future if someone else does come forward wanting to sue. Think of it as a safety net. This is proof that you're getting help."

Arthur understood. He didn't like the thought of having to stay and talk to someone after the meeting, but he didn't have a choice. "Alright," he conceded.

"There are flyers for the counselling sessions on the table outside if you don't want anyone to see you getting them in the department," Kingsley offered.

That meeting with Kingsley was a lot more informative than Arthur expected. He almost wished he hadn't gone to see Kingsley that morning. For now, he would focus on the present, not what may or may not happen in the next several hours.

In the outer office, Percy still had not come in. It was still a bit early, even for Percy, Arthur supposed.

He found the table in which Kingsley spoke. Pamphlets and flyers lay neatly fanned out and organized by topic. The flyers for the counselling services sat on the left. Arthur picked up the yellow parchment. The services were alphabetized by type. Alcohol was right at the top. Briefly, Arthur thought about going to anger management, but he was fairly certain that was caused by his drinking. He thought grief counselling might be better. He shook his head. Skimming down the rest of the list showed nothing else that would be relevant. With how his family was and examining his own recent behavior, he decided alcohol was the best fit.

Under that section was a list of times and rooms: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 6:00 p.m. in Room 735; Tuesday and Thursday mornings at 7:30 in Room 731; Saturday at noon in Room 730. Wow! That was almost every day of the week. Either there were only a handful of people that attended each meeting or there were more people in the same boat as he was. The Ministry was a big place with thousands of employees, not to mention their families. Arthur thought about which way he would rather have it. If there weren't many people, less people would know he was there. If there were more people, it would be easier for him to blend in. Arthur wasn't sure which he preferred.

Arthur hastily folded up the flyer and stuck it in his pocket as someone entered. It was Percy. For a second, Arthur thought about sliding out before his son noticed him, but decided he should probably talk to him.

As Percy got settled in at his desk, Arthur approached. "Good morning, Son," he said apprehensively.

Percy's head snapped up. "Father," he said with a curt nod. "I'll let the Minister know you're here."

"No need. I've already seen him." A tense silence overcame father and son before Arthur decided what to say. "How was the rest of the reception?" he asked nervously.

"Not that great, thanks to you."

Arthur's guilt and shame intensified. He didn't know what he expected. It would have been difficult to save the reception after his outburst. Hopefully, Audrey wasn't too terribly upset about it and Arthur was sure she wouldn't be angry with Percy for his father's actions. "How's Audrey?" he asked.

"She's fine."

"And you?"

"If there is something you want to say, say it," Percy snapped.

"I wanted to apologize again," Arthur confessed. "I _am_ sorry, Son."

"Is that all?" Percy asked. There was more he wanted to say, but Arthur couldn't manage to voice any of it. Besides, Percy didn't seem to want to hear it. When Arthur didn't say anything, Percy said, "I'm taking Mum's advice. From now until I say otherwise, we are merely colleagues."

Arthur rubbed his forehead. "I understand," he said. As he exited the office, he realized how badly he needed to prove to his family that he was serious now.

The next few hours were uneventful. Yes, people whispered when he passed them in the hall and his secretary seemed to not want to come near him. He tried to ignore them. Perkins seemed rather indifferent during their one-on-one meeting. For the most part, he remained in his office and caught up on work he missed and more work coming in. A few times, Arthur took the yellow flyer out and read over it again. For lunch, he only managed to eat one and a half sandwiches; at least, he tried.

Come late afternoon, there was a knock on his office door. His secretary stuck her head in and informed him the Minister and another man were there. Arthur told her to let them in. He stood and braced himself as they entered.

"Good afternoon, Minister," Arthur greeted professionally.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Weasley," Kingsley reciprocated and shook his hand. "This is Dougal Abernathy. I believe the two of you have previously met."

"Hello, Mr. Abernathy," Arthur said, shaking his greasy hand. Immediately afterward, he discretely wiped his hand on his trousers.

Dougal Abernathy gave Arthur a yellow-toothed grin before plopping down in the leather armchair. A few teeth were missing, he noticed; Arthur hoped that wasn't because of him. Arthur and Kingsley also took a seat.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Mr. Abernathy, I feel the need to apologize for last weekend. I do hope I didn't cause you too much trouble," Arthur said sincerely.

"'Pologize all yeh want. I'm still gonna sue," Abernathy said. He looked around the office. He nodded. "Nice office like this. Department head – That's what the paper said, right?" he asked, a devious glint in his eye.

Arthur gave a curt nod.

"I'm sure yeh make a lot o' money, eh?"

Neither Arthur nor Kingsley responded.

"When I firs' found out, I was gonna take yeh for all yer worth."

Oh, shite. This could not be happening. Arthur's heart raced and his throat closed up, but he schooled his features.

"But then," Abernathy continued with a raised finger, "yer buddy here," he jabbed his thumb at Kingsley, "he told me some good stuff yeh did and asked me to think about it. So I thought, and changed me mind. See, I hated that ole, nose-less freak. From what Shackle-whatever told me, you did a lot to help stop him."

Arthur glanced over at Kingsley whose lips were pressed in a thin line before nodding again.

Abernathy leaned forward and flung matted, brown hair out of his face. The other two men eyed him warily. "So, this is what I want. Pay my hospital bills and give me another," he scrunched up his face as he thought, "four hundred Galleons, fer pain and sufferin', ya know."

Arthur whistled internally. Before his promotion, four hundred Galleons would have been more than a month's salary. Now that he made triple that, there was enough money for Molly at the Burrow, his flat, all the booze he could drink, and extra expenses with plenty left over. And with him not drinking anymore, they would be saving a substantial amount, he imagined; he hadn't added up how much he had been spending, but it was a lot. Not to mention, what they hadn't spent that was sitting in their vault. "That's reasonable," Arthur said. "I appreciate you reconsidering."

Kingsley stood. "Mr. Abernathy, why don't I escort you where you can have the official paperwork drawn up?" he offered.

Abernathy and Arthur stood and shook hands.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Arthur collapsed into his chair and put his face in his hands. He let out a deep breath. That was close. Too close, for Arthur's liking. However, the urge to drink that he had been pushing down all day increased tenfold. He took out the yellow parchment again.

Monday night at 6:00 in Room 735. Okay, he just had to make it a few more hours. Hopefully, it would help as much as Kingsley made it seem, and trying on his own hadn't worked, so maybe this would.

**oOoOo**

The hours ticked by. Arthur continued to work in his office until the last possible moment when he had to go to the start-of-week department meeting. The tension could be cut with a knife, but he tried to ignore it and acted as normal as possible. After the meeting, he spent the last hour and a half before the counselling session working in his office.

After he stepped out of the lift on Level 7 and turned down a few hallways, his heart pounded What if he saw someone he knew? What if that someone saw where he was going but wasn't going to the same place? What if other people knew who he was? What if someone asked why he was there? What if he had to talk?

He decided to focus on the room numbers instead. 719…721…723…725…727…729…731...

"Arthur, m'boy!" a voice called from behind him.

 _Oh shite,_ Arthur thought. He plastered a smile across his face and turned around. "Amos!" he greeted just as jovially.

"What on earth are you doing all the way down here?" Amos asked with a pat on Arthur's back.

Arthur's eyes grew wide. "Oh – I – um – you know –" he floundered.

"Here for the meeting? Room 735?" Amos asked quietly, saving Arthur from any further stammering.

Arthur stared at the man.

"I'm headed there myself," Amos said.

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows.

"Cedric," Amos said in answer. "Then when Alanna passed a few months later, I couldn't handle it."

Arthur remembered how distraught and inconsolable Amos was after his son's death and how much worse he became after his wife's. Back then, he couldn't imagine what it must be like to lose your wife and your only son within months of each other, and he still couldn't imagine it. He didn't want to.

"Anyway, I've been coming to this for a little over a year now. I go to the grief counselling about once a week as well if you want to join. It really helps." Amos glanced at his watch. A few people had passed while they talked in the hall as well. "We best get in there. Almost time to start."

The two men started walking the last few yards to Room 735. Suddenly, Amos stopped. "Oh, Arthur, there's something you might ought to know," he said. "He's either already in there or he isn't coming tonight, but Conner McGrath usually comes on Monday."

Arthur glanced at the door. "Oh…" He bit his bottom lip.

"Don't let that stop you from coming," Amos continued. "I understand that is a delicate situation, but if you need to be here…" he trailed off. "Besides, Monday is always a busy night - not the busiest, mind - so you may not even notice each other."

Arthur would have rather Amos not told him any of that because his anxiety became that much worse. He knew he needed to give it a try. Everything was riding on it. "Let's go," he told Amos and followed him in.

Amos wasn't kidding when he said Monday was a busy night. The large conference room that was set up in an auditorium style with a few rows of chairs facing a podium contained about thirty people. A lot, he didn't recognize. Some, he thought he'd seen in passing around the Ministry over the years. The only people he saw that he knew were Amos and Conner. Most people talked amongst themselves. A few already had their seats and kept away from other people.

A dark-haired woman called Amos over. After refusing the invitation to join them that Amos extended him, Arthur found where he smelled coffee coming from in the back of the room.

"Mind passing the creamer?" a young man asked since it was on the other side of Arthur. Arthur handed him two individually packaged creamers after setting down the pot of coffee. "I'm Peter, by the way," he introduced himself as he stirred in the creamer.

Arthur grunted in response. He did not feel like talking, and he was not going to introduce himself if he didn't have to. All he wanted was for the meeting to start, so it could get over with. He picked up his black coffee and passed Peter. However, the younger man followed and continued the nonexistent conversation.

"So, you know Amos?" Peter asked.

"Since Hogwarts," Arthur replied shortly then sipped his coffee.

Peter's face lit up. "Oh! Were you in Hufflepuff, too?"

"No."

"Well, Mrs. Norris was still a pain though, right?"

"I don't know who that is."

"You know, Filch's cat," Peter clarified.

Arthur snorted. "Filch wasn't the caretaker when I was there."

Silence fell between the two. Even though Arthur found this to be an opportune time to find a seat, he didn't in case Peter or someone else decided to sit next to him. He and Peter sipped their coffee in silence.

Arthur noticed Peter had stopped sipping his coffee and was staring at him. "What are you looking at?" Arthur shot.

Quickly, Peter looked away. "Sorry. I – er - the – um - I noticed the scars," he stammered, scratching the back of his neck. "I was curious, but I wasn't going to say anything. I'm sorry," he apologized again, ears pink and eyes wide.

Arthur subconsciously rubbed the side of his neck and down where the scars disappeared under his shirt. He, then, buttoned and adjusted the collar of his shirt. When he realized he used the hand with the jagged scar on the back, he quickly stuffed it in his pocket. He narrowed his eyes at the young man. "We just finished a war. Use some common sense," Arthur snapped.

Peter apologized again before going to join another group. Admittedly, he was a bit tough on the boy. The kid – well, not kid because he was around Charlie's age - may have realized this was his first time and decided to be friendly and make him feel a little more comfortable, and Arthur repaid him with a bad attitude.

Near the front of the room, the tall Irishman laughed with a grey-haired woman and blonde-haired man that Arthur didn't recognize. Conner didn't seem to notice him. The room was rather full. Arthur didn't have a problem with any of that. More people there meant less people would notice him. He finally came to the conclusion he preferred larger meetings.

A thin witch called for everyone to take a seat. Arthur sighed with relief. He took an aisle seat on the very last row, so he could make a quick escape, then he realized it wouldn't make a difference because he had to have a paper signed afterward.

Amos joined Arthur. Having a friend there wasn't bad, Arthur thought.

After the thin witch talked for several minutes, she opened it up for others to share. Usually, the person speaking remained in their seat. Occasionally, someone would stand behind the podium. Some talked about how great they were doing while others talked about their struggles. A few shared revelations they recently had or tips they found helpful. Arthur didn't catch a lot of what was said because he was too busy drawing patterns in his foam cup. Some of what he did hear, he could relate to.

When Conner spoke, Arthur found himself paying close attention, even though that was the last person he wanted to listen to.

"I've not been doing so well…There's this woman who I have grown quite fond of – well, I love her, to be frank," Arthur's empty cup made a faint cracking noise and his teeth ground together, "but nothing can come from it. For the first time since my wife left me a few years ago, I was happy. This woman made me genuinely happy. We would see each other nearly every day." The cup crumbled in Arthur's hand, cracking loudly. Everyone ignored it except for someone across the aisle, the woman in front of him, and Amos who put a hand on his shoulder and hissed in his ear that he could step out if he needed. That would only bring more attention to him, Arthur thought. He remained seated and set the broken pieces of the cup on the floor. "Recently, we've stopped seeing each other as much. And – uh – it's been hard…This weekend, I actually bought a bottle," Conner admitted. "I took it home and stared at it for hours before I finally poured a glass. I smelled it and stared at it some more. I didn't end up drinking anything. I'm not sure if I would have. What stopped me was that an owl came from her, asking how I was and if I wanted to come over -"

In one swift movement, Arthur stood, turned, and was out the door. Amos was close on his heels. Amos gently closed the door behind them and cast Muffliato. Arthur wanted to keep going, but he had sat through over half of that meeting and he was not going to end up having to go to three that week. He decided to pace furiously instead. For the first time in his life, Amos waited before he spoke.

"The nerve!" Arthur blurted.

"Arthur, he doesn't even know you are here," Amos calmly stated.

"He just told all those people in there!" he fumed.

"That is what we do here. If the person finds the context significant, they include it," Amos explained. "Conner didn't use any details. No one knows –"

"If they read the _Daily Prophet_ , they have a damn good idea!" Arthur interrupted.

The next few minutes, Amos kept his mouth shut and let the redhead blow off some steam. When Arthur finally stopped pacing, Amos asked, "Are you ready to go back in now?"

Arthur took a deep breath. He nodded.

Someone else was speaking when they reentered. No one seemed to notice their temporary absence.

After the meeting wrapped up, Arthur was glad Conner had his back turned and was too busy talking to notice him approach the head witch – Natasha, it turned out was her name – and have his slip signed for Kingsley. As soon as that was taken care of, Arthur slipped out, eager to get as far away as possible.

Arthur only got back to his grandparents' a little over half an hour past dinnertime. Gran heated up a huge plate of food for him. Both Gran and Gramps sat at the table with him while he ate. Despite his grandparents' various attempts to get him to talk about his day, he didn't. What he did say was short and snarky. Nope, he should not have agreed to live with them, he thought.


	33. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey, y’all. Sorry it took so long. This semester has been kicking my butt. On the bright side, I ended up getting four chapters out of a chapter that was originally going to be one. I am also going to be cutting down on the length of chapters. I realized the last few were getting pretty long.

The Burrow had been decorated for Halloween as it usually was this time of year. Pumpkins sat around the house and garden, some waiting to be carved into jack-o-lanterns. Spider webs were strewn about, minus the spiders since Ron was home. Fake bones protruded from the ground. Dozens of bats flew overhead outside. Vibrant reds and oranges filled the usually-green countryside.

Molly hadn’t felt much like decorating, but it gave her something to do and was a good way to occupy her mind. Not to mention, the Burrow had quite the reputation for the most frightening house within miles of Ottery St. Catchpole on Halloween. Its normal lopsided appearance added to the “haunted house” look. Some well-placed lighting and the ghoul moved into the garden only increased the scare factor. Kids from the nearby village and other outlying houses always made sure to come by on Halloween night.

Not only were the kids excited it was Halloween, but Molly was especially glad it was Halloween. Well, she would have been glad if it was any other day, just as long as October 30th was over. The previous day had been her birthday, but it didn’t feel right without Arthur.

That Friday morning, Molly had woken to the alarm ringing and wondered why it was going off when Arthur always woke up early, turned her alarm off, and brought up a special breakfast on her birthday. (Arthur never could cook a thing to save his life, but breakfast was the one thing he could manage, seeing as he had taken up the responsibility during each of Molly’s pregnancies.) After breakfast in bed, Arthur would sweep her away for a day filled with adventure and surprises.

Molly looked over at Arthur’s untouched side of the bed. It only took her a second to remember why he wasn’t there. Not ready to get up yet, she pulled the long sleeves of Arthur’s shirt she had commandeered over her hands and hugged his pillow tightly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, breathing in her husband’s scent and imagining for a moment that he was right there next to her. Sure, she was still upset with him and didn’t really want to see him until he had gotten serious, but that didn’t mean she didn’t miss him terribly.

Suddenly, the bedroom door swung open. Her sons, plus Harry, carried in a breakfast buffet while singing “Happy Birthday.” The boys sat around with Molly while she ate, but it wasn’t long before they each departed for their jobs and Auror training. Charlie, however, had taken the day off to spend with her.

Even though Charlie was there, Molly wished Arthur would send her something or perhaps show up out of nowhere and surprise her, finally ready to make things right. She knew that was wishful thinking; it had only been wo weeks since the catastrophe of Percy’s wedding and her being overly harsh on Arthur, but she thought that might be what would finally set him straight.

After much procrastination from Molly, Charlie got her out of the house and took her to lunch. George met them in Diagon Alley that afternoon and let Molly buy whatever she wanted. Then, that night when they returned to the Burrow, the boys had invited some close friends and bought their mum a cake. While it was a nice gesture, Molly wasn’t much in the mood for a birthday party. With her family and friends around, she felt obligated to be happy, so she pretended.

That was why Molly was glad her birthday was over. With it being Saturday and Halloween, it was that much better because that meant it would be easier to distract herself and she would have plenty of company.

It was mid-morning and Molly was busy baking fresh Pumpkin Pasties and Cauldron Cakes for trick-or-treaters when Conner came in through the back door. He had been coming over so much they had agreed several weeks ago that he didn’t have to knock anymore if Molly was expecting him. Since the revelation brought on by Arthur, they had cut down on the time they spent together substantially, but figured once or twice a week wouldn’t hurt.

“Morning, Molls!” Conner greeted as he set a jack-o-lantern of a cat on the kitchen table.

“Oh, that’s cute!” Molly commented, taking a break from her baking.

“Why don’t you go ahead and light it?” Conner suggested, a twinkle in his eye.

Molly chuckled. “It’s not even noon yet.”

“Just go ahead.”

Without any further protest, Molly took the top of the pumpkin off, wondering what on earth Conner had planned. When she looked inside, she saw a tiny orange kitten curled up asleep. She picked up the little ball of fluff. “Conner, how did you – I don’t – It looks just like the one I had growing up.”

Conner grinned at her. “Happy birthday,” he said before hastily adding, “But if you don’t want it, I totally understand. Big responsibility and all that.”

“No, Conner, I love it,” Molly beamed. “Thank you.”

Conner brought in the kitten food, bowls, and bed while Molly made them both some tea.

“How was your birthday?” Conner asked.

Molly shrugged. “Needless to say, it wasn’t the best I’ve had, but the boys did a lot. They made me breakfast in bed, Charlie took me to lunch, George took me shopping, and they all threw me a little surprise party. As much as I appreciate all they did, I’m glad it’s over.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but you do have some good kids.”

“How was your week?” Molly asked.

“Not bad. A lot better now, though.” Conner smiled at her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” he added

“It’s fine,” Molly waved it off, failing to hide a small smile of her own..

Ron drowsily wandered in with one of the worst bedheads Molly had ever seen. Auror training had become more strenuous recently, so Ron used as much time as he could to rest.

“Hey, Conner,” Ron yawned in greeting.

“Ron,” Conner reciprocated.

“Are you hungry, dear?” Molly asked, getting up to make him something before he even answered.

“Starved,” Ron mumbled.

Ron picked up the kitten and petted it for a few minutes before he woke up a bit more. He cocked his head at the orange tabby cat. “When did we get a cat?” he asked stupidly.

“He’s a birthday present from Conner,” Molly answered.

“Oh,” Ron said before starting up idle conversation with Conner. He didn’t have a problem with the Irishman like some of his siblings did. He was happy to see his mum was still seeing him. In Ron’s opinion, his mum was better off with Conner. She seemed happy around Conner, and the man did not cause as much drama like his father did nowadays.

As the hours passed, other Weasley sons arrived - in Bill’s and Percy’s cases, with their wives. Seeing as none of them had seen Conner since the wedding, Molly got a pretty good idea of where each stood: Ron was obvious; Charlie was much like Ron and strongly approved of Conner; George barely said a word to him, and Molly felt like he was only there out of obligation; Percy exchanged pleasantries, but didn’t have anything else to do with him; Bill was the only one to vocalize his feelings to his mum.

Bill approached Molly when she was alone in the kitchen, taking out the last batch of Pumpkin Pasties. Everyone else had gone outside to carve pumpkins.

“Hey, Mum. Do you need any help?” Bill offered.

“I’m just finishing up. Thank you, though,” Molly said. “Shouldn’t you be out with the others?”

Bill shrugged. “I have something I need to say.”

“Oh?” Molly raised an eyebrow. She wiped her hands on the dishtowel and set it on the counter before looking expectantly at her eldest son.

“I just…hope you know what you’re doing,” Bill began carefully. “Conner seems like a good guy, but I think you should make a decision about Dad first. I know you’re angry with Dad right now, as we all are, but you may not feel the same way in a few weeks or months. I don’t want you to do something you may regret later. That’s all.”

Molly understood what her son was saying, but was she expected to wait around for something that may never happen? It was out of her control. Arthur was the one holding the cards now.

“Thank you, Bill,” Molly said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The kids only stayed for a few hours, some longer than others. George was the first to leave, claiming he needed to get ready before going out with Lee, Angelina, and Katie Bell that night. Percy and Audrey left next because they wanted to make sure they were ready for their first year of trick-or-treaters. Charlie left soon after for the same reason; he would hate to gain the reputation of the worst Halloween house in Hogsmeade. Bill and Fleur went with Charlie since Shell Cottage was so far away from any other houses they didn’t get trick-or-treaters. Last to leave was Ron, who went to meet up with Harry and Neville.

Molly and Conner found themselves alone once again. In between trick-or-treaters, they played with the new kitten, which Molly had named Leo, while the wireless played scary stories in the background.

The night passed rather quickly. It was nearly midnight when Conner went home. There were a few Cauldron Cakes and Pumpkin Pasties left over, so Molly sent some with him. Ron was still out with Harry when she decided to go to bed.

**oOoOo**

Halloween at Costin and Irene Weasley’s house began like any other Saturday: Irene started on breakfast early: Costin went out to tend to the animals and various chores. This was the first time in the week Arthur had been there that he helped Gramps. Every morning that week, Arthur had gone into work early and every night, he would stay late to catch up on work he’d missed and avoid too much conversation with his grandparents.

As the day progressed, various relatives arrived: Arthur’s brothers, nieces, nephews, great nieces, great nephews, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Holidays always brought nearly the entire extended family to Costin and Irene’s house. When Arthur and Molly were first married, they would come over on holidays, but when they started having kids, they preferred a more intimate gathering with immediate family.

The two-story farmhouse was bursting. It was impossible to get a moment alone with people in every room of the house: kids too young for Hogwarts playing in the various bedrooms and garden, adults smoking and drinking outside and in the large, open basement, and the older generation of women busy in the kitchen.

Gramps and Gran almost prohibited any alcohol for Arthur’s sake, but that was almost impossible with around one hundred people there. Instead, they confined drinking to the basement and outside, which didn’t really help Arthur. He couldn’t go to the basement, he couldn’t go out to the garden, and whenever he ventured too close to the kitchen, Gran or one of his aunts would shove food at him to “get some meat back on those bones.” Eventually, Arthur bummed a couple smokes from Trenton and retreated to the solitude of the barn, voices from the house muffled.

Arthur set the little box with delicate, complex carvings he had brought out on a table in the barn. Next, he neatly laid out a handkerchief behind the box. He took a beautiful, old necklace out of the antique musical jewelry box and carefully laid it on the handkerchief.

This was supposed to be Molly’s birthday present. He had found the necklace first then visited Muggle antique shops around London until he found the jewelry box. It was in bad shape, chipped and cracked and didn’t play well. After hours of working on it, Arthur had sanded and polished it, replaced the red velvet lining, and somehow managed to fix the musical mechanism, but while he listened to it the previous night, he thought it was playing a bit slow. He wasn’t sure when he would be able to give it to Molly, but he wanted it to be absolutely perfect when he did.

Cigarette hanging out of his mouth, Arthur turned the box over and removed the mechanism from inside it. He had just finished oiling it when Gramps walked in.

“Oh, don’t you start with that,” Gramps chided, referring to Arthur’s smoking. “You were smart enough to stay away from it when you were younger. Besides, it could easily start a fire in here.”

“Oh, sorry,” Arthur mumbled before putting out the last little bit, just realizing how true his grandfather’s statement was. “It’s just…a lot.” He frowned and looked at the house through the door Gramps had left open.

“Yeah,” Gramps sighed. “We weren’t sure how well you would deal with it. A few of us have been watching you.”

Great. Now people were keeping an eye on him. He hated not being trusted just as much as he hated other people in his business. It was more difficult than he’d like to admit though, so maybe they ought to be watching him.

“Gramps –“ Arthur began to protest anyway.

Gramps put a hand up to stop him. “Calm down. We didn’t tell anyone about your problem – although it’s not much of a secret anymore. Your grandmother and I and a few of your brothers - we’re just looking out for you.”

Arthur deflated. “Oh, okay.”

“I told everyone to keep the drinking to the basement a few minutes ago. And I gave Trenton and Neil a stern talking to when they got here as well,” Gramps informed.

“Look, Gramps, I don’t want to be a bother. Go back in and tell them they can drink wherever they want.” Arthur shrugged. “I’ll just have to get over it.”

“No,” Gramps said flatly. “Arthur, it’s not that simple. It’s not that you don’t want it around, you _can’t_ have it around. I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through, but I know it’s not about willpower. You don’t need to be taking this lightly, because, in the long run,” Gramps looked his grandson in the eye, “it’s your life.” He didn’t want to be blunt, but he sometimes had to be with Arthur.

Arthur had to admit his grandfather had a point, and he knew it was serious. He just didn’t want to admit it was _that_ serious. “Yeah, alright,” he sighed.

“What do you have there?” Gramps asked.

“Molly’s birthday present. I was tweaking it a little.”

“That’s coming up soon, isn’t it?”

“It was yesterday,” Arthur replied, running his thumb over the newly polished wood.

“How are you holding up?” Gramps gently inquired.

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t give me any of that crap,” Gramps said. “You never could fool me when you were a child, and you can’t fool me now.”

Arthur looked back at his grandfather. “I have to be fine, don’t I? You were there. She doesn’t even want to hear from me.”

“You’ve missed an important part of what she said, Son. She said to find yourself first,” Gramps corrected.

Arthur stood up. “Does it look like I’ve even begun to do that?” he asked, gesturing to himself. “Two weeks isn’t long enough for that, but the longer I’m away from her, the more lost I feel. Or maybe it would still be this way if I was with her…” he ventured.

“Arthur, you don’t know that. You may feel that way because, for the first time, you are away from your family,” Gramps reasoned.

“Fine. You’ve known me my entire life. I’ve lived with you the past week. Look at me, and tell me you recognize who I am,” Arthur challenged. Grandfather and grandson locked eyes, both searching the others’. After a moment of silence, Arthur said, “That’s what I thought,” before turning back to the jewelry box.

“Arthur, wait.”

Arthur faced his grandfather again.

Gramps heaved a heavy sigh. “When I look at you now, I see a man who, despite how hard he has worked and how hard he has fought, has lost so much, and who is struggling, and is not helping himself by shutting everyone out. That is what I see, and it _pains_ me. I just want you to be happy, Son.”

When Arthur didn’t respond, Gramps suggested, “How about you get that finished up and do a walkthrough of the haunted trail with me?”

“Are we done talking?” Arthur asked.

“If that’s what you want,” Gramps assured. “I just need some help finishing it before tonight.”

“Alright,” Arthur said. Gramps gave his shoulder a squeeze before heading out of the barn.

When Arthur was satisfied with the musical jewelry box, he put it back together, safely stored it in a high cabinet, and found Gramps waiting outside with Neil. The brothers shared a brief greeting, not having seen each other yet, before joining Gramps on the walkthrough. There were never any trick-or-treaters since they were so far out in the countryside, but it had become a tradition decades ago for the children in the family; it was quite fun for the adults, too.

Chatting idly and making a few adjustments along the way, the trio had gone through the barn, a tight grouping of trees, and had stopped in the small cornfield when Neil changed the subject of conversation to something more serious.

“Arthur, I’m sorry,” he apologized, “about the wedding reception. Trenton and I shouldn’t have pressured you, and our comments about – well, you know – didn’t help any. We weren’t thinking, and I am so sorry. If there was something I could do, believe me, I would.”

“I appreciate that, Neil. At least one of my brothers is mature enough to take responsibility for his actions.”

“You know how Trent is. He doesn’t even remember what happened,” Neil half-heartedly defended his other brother. “So, how have you been?”

Arthur glanced at Gramps, who was preoccupied with flattening the cornstalks better to prevent people from tripping, before answering, “Fine. I’ve been fine.”

Neil crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at his older brother. “Really? ‘Cause you look worse than you did a couple weeks ago – and that was rough,” he said softly.

“Gee, thanks,” Arthur said sarcastically.

“I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just – You’re -” Neil gave a frustrated sigh. “You’re scaring me, Arthur. Every time I see you is worse than the last. It reminds me of –“ He broke eye contact and put his hands up. “You know what? Never mind.”

“No, go on,” Arthur said. While he did not want to have this conversation, he wanted to know what was bothering his younger brother.

Neil looked back at Arthur. “Right now, you’re reminding me of Uncle Felix before he…” Neil trailed off, but he did not need to finish that sentence for Arthur to know what he meant. “Know I’m here if you need me.”

“I am so sick of that,” Arthur said calmly but without hiding his exasperation. “Everyone – not just today or the past week, but for months – Everyone has been telling me the same things, with the same sympathetic looks: ‘How are you? You’re so thin; have you lost weight? Are you ill? Is everything alright? You don’t seem like yourself. Let me know if there’s anything I can do,’” he mimicked.

“I’m fucking fantastic!” Arthur exploded. “My life is in shambles, but don’t worry about me, because constantly reminding me of that fact will make everything better!”

“Arthur, people are showing concern. They see you are struggling, and they’re reaching out,” Neil said calmly.

“I don’t need anyone’s pity, or sympathetic offers, or obligatory questions. What I need is for people to keep their noses out of my business. What’s anyone going to do anyway? I can’t even figure out what’s wrong with me, let alone what anyone else is thinking. They sure as hell can’t do anything to help.”

“Arthur!” Gramps boomed as he walked the short distance back to his grandsons.

"I don't feel like dealing with any of this tonight. I'm going back to the flat," Arthur said before stalking off toward the house.

As he passed through the kitchen, Arthur ignored Gran and made a beeline for the Floo.

Gran gave Gramps, who was hot on Arthur’s trail, a questioning, concerned look. Gramps sighed heavily with a frown and a shake of his head before continuing his path.

While Arthur was brushing soot out of his hair and beard in his flat, Gramps came through the Floo. Arthur glanced back then returned to brushing soot off himself as he quietly asked, "Shouldn't you be at the house?"

"This is more important," Gramps replied simply, brushing off as well.

“I’m not talking anymore.”

“I didn’t expect you to.”

They sat down once all soot was removed. After a few minutes, Arthur said, "I'm sorry for blowing up like that."

"I'm not the one you need to be apologizing to."

Silence blanketed the room again.

Gramps broke the silence after a long while. "Is this what we’re going to do all night?” he asked. “Sit here?"

Arthur shrugged. "I didn't really plan ahead. I usually just drink when I'm here. Or getting in bed early tonight doesn't sound like a bad idea."

Gramps glanced at his watch. "It's only four o'clock,” he stated before pulling something out of his pocket. "Good thing I have this." He cast a spell to enlarge the object which turned out to be a Wizard’s Chess set.

"Gramps, I don't really feel like playing chess."

"Or maybe you’re afraid I'll beat you."

"No."

Gramps quirked an eyebrow.

"Fine. One game,” Arthur conceded. “When I win, you have to leave me alone for the rest of the night,” he challenged as he set up his pieces.

"And if I win, you come back to the house,” Gramps countered. “You don't have to socialize. You can go to your room if you want, but you have to come back to the house."

Gramps easily won the game. Arthur blamed his failure on not having had the time to play over the past few years. The younger Weasley suggested best two out of three.

The second game took almost twice as long as the first. Arthur won.

The final game lasted over an hour. It looked as if Arthur would win. He moved his queen. “Check.”

Instead of moving his king out of the way, Gramps moved his bishop to Arthur’s king. “Checkmate.” In moving his queen, Arthur had failed to notice he was opening up a gap in his defenses.

“Another game?” Arthur asked.

“I gave you best two of three,” Gramps stated. “We need to get back. It’s almost dinnertime.”

“Another time then? I was enjoying playing chess with you again,” Arthur admitted. Throughout the evening, Arthur’s mood had gradually lifted. Having to focus on the games took his mind off everything else and reminded him of all the other times he and his grandfather had played chess. It was Gramps who had taught him, after all, and then he had passed it on to his kids.

Gramps smiled at him, a glint tin his eye. “So you feel better?”

Arthur nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’ll tell you what, keep living with me and your grandmother and we will play chess whenever you want.”

“Gramps, when I said I was coming back here tonight, I didn’t mean I was moving back here. I just wasn’t in the mood to be around people,” Arthur explained.

“I would still feel better if you came back to the house tonight.”

“Okay.”

Grandfather and grandson found themselves back just in time for dinner, where everyone found a seat wherever they could around the house and garden. With his mood having lifted, Arthur didn’t retreat to his room afterward, but spent time with family instead. He hadn’t realized how much he missed these gatherings.


	34. A Much-Needed Heart-to-Heart

The crow of a rooster could barely be heard over the pouring rain. Arthur’s breath rose in a fog in front of him. Warmth instantly washed over him when he stepped into the barn. He removed the hood of his charmed cloak from his head. If it wasn’t for the rain-repelling charm, he would be absolutely drenched. Over the past week, he had taken to helping Gramps with the morning chores, and every time, it seemed it wanted to rain. That Saturday morning, they had already tended to the sheep, milked the half-dozen cows, fed the chickens, and fixed a hole in the fence.

“Take the cows some hay,” Gramps said from behind Arthur. Sid the Sheepdog trotted past before he stopped and shook, water flying off him in all directions.

Knowing Gramps would lecture him again on the importance of physical labor, Arthur did not bother taking out his wand. He lifted the fifty-pound square bale and carried it across the barn before tossing it in with the cows.

Gramps sat down on a stool, Sid curling up on the floor next to him, and waited for Arthur to rejoin him. “I’ve been enjoying you helping out,” he said as Arthur took a seat on another bale of hay.

“You have a lot to do on a daily basis,” Arthur said. “When the older boys are on break, you should get them to help out some, or at least start using magic. One of these days, you’re going to get hurt if you don’t.”

“That’s not what I meant. What I meant was I’m enjoying spending time with you,” Gramps rephrased. “You know, I haven’t seen you much recently. The war kept you busy, then you were avoiding us.“

“Who said I was avoiding you?” Arthur interrupted with a cock of his head.

Gramps snorted. “Your actions.”

The younger Weasley’s ears and neck grew red.

“And since you’ve been here, you always get home rather late,” Gramps continued.

“Nine or ten o’clock is not late,” Arthur pointed out.

“It is when you’re over a hundred years old and wake up before dawn every morning,” Gramps chuckled.

“I’ve had a lot of work to do…”

“Are you going to that counselling whatchamacallit Kingsley told you about?” he asked.

“I’ve been going on Monday and Friday,” Arthur said absent-mindedly as he watched a small bird hop around on the edge of the hayloft.

“Is it helping?”

“I don’t know, Gramps,” Arthur snapped. “I’ve only been a few times.”

Gramps leaned back against a post his stool sat in front of. “What are you doing the other nights?” he inquired innocently.

“Working.”

“You’re not –“

Arthur tore is attention away from the bird. “No, Gramps,” he interrupted again. “I’m not drinking.” And he was telling the truth. It had been a challenge, but he somehow managed to refrain. Most nights, he was stuck in his office with paperwork. Sure, he could bring it home, but that would only give his grandparents more opportunity to have a deep discussion with him about his life and recent behavior; he’d already had enough of that on Halloween.

The gray-haired wizard shrugged. “You don’t talk to us anymore, Son.”

Arthur pulled out a straw of hay. He idly began to break it into small pieces.

Gramps watched his grandson closely. “Why won’t you talk to us?” he asked softly.

Arthur concentrated on his task.

Gramps stated, “I think it is past time we had that little chat.”

Immediately, Arthur’s eyes snapped up to his grandfather. “What chat?” he asked nervously, knowing full well what Gramps was talking about.

“The one I wanted to have at the wedding – and long before that.”

Standing abruptly, Arthur said, “Let’s just get back to work.”

“Arthur - Arthur, sit back down,” Gramps said from his stool. “It would be wonderful if you talked, but you don’t have to. Just listen.”

Arthur looked at the roof. “I think it’s stopped raining. We could patch the leak in the roof,” he suggested. While he was not looking forward to repairing the roof without magic, he would much rather do that than have this little chat with Gramps.

“Boy, get back here and sit down,” Gramps commanded. Reluctantly, Arthur obeyed. He resumed his seat on the bale of hay.

“Why are you afraid? What do you think I’m going to say?” Gramps inquired gently.

“I don’t know,” Arthur sighed.

“I think you do,” Gramps called him out. “Tell me.”

Arthur put his elbows on his knees and scratched the back of his head. He stared at the bits of hay he had dropped on the floor. “That you’re ashamed – That you’re disappointed in me – That you agree with everyone else that I’m no better than my father,” he confessed quietly.

Gramps leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “Arthur, look at me,” he calmly commanded. It took a few seconds, but Arthur looked his grandfather in the eye. “ _None_ of that is true,” he assured. “You are a good person – a great man - an _amazing_ father. You have done more for your family and the wizarding world than anyone I know of. Yes, you have made mistakes, but that doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“You sound so sure,” Arthur mumbled.

“I am.” Gramps sat up. “You have overcome a slew of obstacles. You can get through this one, too. Arthur, you are one of the strongest people I know…but you need to learn to let your guard down and be open. Sometimes, being strong is actually a weakness, Son.”

“I know, Gramps,” Arthur said. He sat up as well. Pushing his hair back, he asked, “Is that all?”

“Not quite.” Gramps turned his focus to his hands as he rubbed his thumb over some callouses and continued, “There is one more thing I think you should know. I don’t think we’ve ever said this to you or any of your brothers.” He sat up straight and looked Arthur in the eye again. “You’re more than grandsons to us. You’re like sons. Your grandmother and I feel like we raised you, and there is a special bond we have with you boys that we don’t have with our other grandchildren because of that. So, when I call you ‘Son,’ it is not merely a term of endearment. It is much more.”

Arthur bit his upper lip as his eyebrows knit together. A certain type of acceptance he had never experienced before overcame him. He always knew his grandparents loved him; there was never any question about that. But to love him as a son? He had never thought anyone ever loved him as a son, not even his own parents. He was at a loss for how to respond to this information.

Finally, he blinked at Gramps. “Um…Thanks, Gramps,” he managed. “You know? You’ve always been more of a father to me than Septimus ever was.”

“I’m glad I could be that for you. I hate I had to be, but I’m glad I could be,” Gramps said. “And I hope you understand why we never took you all in full-time, because we would have in a heartbeat if your parents allowed us.”

“I know.”

After another moment of silence, Arthur stood and put his hand out to help Gramps up. The two embraced.

“I love you, Son,” Gramps said as he held Arthur tightly.

“I love you, Gramps,” Arthur responded as they both pulled back, “and I really appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

“We’ll always be there for you,” Gramps assured. “Let’s get back to work, shall we? Unless you want to talk more?”

“No, let’s get back to it.”

It was only a couple of hours before the two finished their chores for the morning. The rain eventually stopped, but the sun never came out. Arthur looked forward to an afternoon where he could relax. Weekends were the only time he had any free time, and the previous Saturday was Halloween which brought his entire extended family to his grandparents’ house, and Sunday, he still had paperwork to catch up on. So, this was the first time in two weeks he could do absolutely nothing and enjoy it.

When they got back to the house, Gran had two large, steaming mugs of tea and a hefty lunch waiting for them.

“Arthur dear, you have a pile of letters here you haven’t opened,” Gran said, holding a stack of unopened letters.

“So you keep telling me,” Arthur said evenly.

“I wouldn’t have to keep telling you if you opened them.”

Even after decades, Gran still felt the need to tell her grandsons what to do. Arthur had not thought of that when he agreed to move in. He took the letters and set them on the coffee table before sitting on the couch. “I’m a grown man. I will open my mail when I am good and ready.”

“Don’t talk back to your grandmother,” Gramps chided half-heartedly as he sat in his armchair.

“I’m not –“

“Just do what she says, Son,” Gramps calmly interrupted, scanning the newspaper for the place he had left off that morning.

Finally, Arthur conceded. It had been weeks since he last opened a letter. The sheer amount was overwhelming. Gradually, he made his way through. A few had been from Kingsley when he missed work. Some were from his brothers and his grandparents from the same week. He tossed those to the side, all of them irrelevant now. Other letters came from friends who were simply checking on him. Half the letters, Ginny had sent, asking how he was and why he wasn’t owling her back. The most recent ones made it evident she had grown anxious. That was the exact reason why he had been avoiding opening them. For one, he was afraid of receiving scathing letters from Molly or the boys - which he had received no letters at all from them – and, then, he knew he would want to respond to any letters from Ginny.

Arthur stared at four words on Ginny’s most recent letter: _I love you, Daddy_. It was in every one of her letters, but that one conveyed something the others hadn’t.

After the wedding, he didn’t have the opportunity to see his little girl. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to. There was no telling how she would have reacted to him after his violent outburst. Part of him had hoped she would stop by his flat on her way back to Hogwarts, but he knew that would only cause more problems and that it would not be good for anyone. Her letters – those four words - perplexed him. Her unwavering loyalty, even when he acted abominably and everyone else deserted him, made him wonder what it was his little girl saw that no one else did.

Every fiber of his being wanted to write her back and ease her worry – to show her that he was still there and that he loved her. But if he wrote her after Molly so strongly forbade it and Molly found out, that might be the final straw. It felt like he had lost everything already, but it wasn’t definite - Not yet, at least. Molly made it clear this was his last chance and he did not want to do anything to risk it, but he could not let Ginny continue to worry.

He went to speak, but something was preventing him from doing so. He swallowed the lump that had appeared in his throat. “Gran,” he said. Gran stopped reading her _Witch Weekly_ magazine and looked expectantly at him. Gramps looked over the top of his reading glasses at him as well. “Could you do me a favor? Could you write to Ginny and let her know I’m okay and that she has to stop writing me?”

“Why can’t –“

Gramps cleared his throat and shot Gran a look that told her he would explain later. It was far from subtle, but Arthur was grateful for Gramps’s interruption and glad he wouldn’t have to explain.

“Don’t worry,” Gramps assured Arthur with a sad smile. “We’ll take care of it.”

**oOoOo**

Hogwarts’s Great Hall buzzed with excitement that Sunday morning. It was the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. Ginny sat at the Gryffindor table with Luna and Hermione, though none of them ate because they planned to have breakfast at the little café in the village. They could have headed straight down, but Ginny insisted they wait for the mail. Neither Luna nor Hermione minded, knowing exactly what Ginny was hoping would arrive.

Owls swooped in through the high windows. Ginny watched with anticipation as she had every morning for the past three weeks. What she waited for never came, but she watched nevertheless.

Harry’s tawny owl dropped a letter in front of her. A few seconds later an old barn owl dropped another letter in front of her. Was this what she had been waiting for?

Without hesitation, she ripped the second envelope open. Disappointment washed over her when she noticed the handwriting was not her dad’s. Her heart sank further as she read on.

“What is it, Ginny?” Luna asked.

Crumpling the paper and stuffing it in her pocket, Ginny stood abruptly and said, “It’s nothing,” before leading the way out of the Great Hall. Hermione grabbed Harry’s letter and tucked it into her bag to give to Ginny later.

The letter practically ruined her Hogsmeade trip. All morning, Ginny couldn’t stop thinking about what it said: her great-grandparents had written to tell her to stop sending letters to her dad. There was more to it than that, but that was essentially the whole point of the letter. It did partially ease her worry, finding out that her dad was alright, but it crushed her when it said to stop communicating with him with no explanation. He didn’t even have the nerve to tell her himself!

The trio was coming out of Honeydukes when Charlie blocked their path. Ginny made to go around him.

“Ginny, wait,” he said. “Can we talk?”

Ginny faced him. “Why?” she asked.

“Because we need to,” Charlie answered. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks.”

“Yeah, well, _you_ were avoiding me for months before that. You wouldn’t even talk to me at my birthday party. You disowned me, remember?” she shot.

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah…I’m sorry about that,” he apologized. “I let my temper get the best of me.”

Ginny crossed her arms. “You think that makes it all better?”

“No, but it would help if we talked. Do you want to come over for lunch? I bought a house just down the road.”

After a moment’s thought, Ginny agreed. She told Luna and Hermione she would catch up with them later then walked with Charlie to his house.

Once they were sat at the table with full plates of bangers and mash, Charlie asked, “How have things been?”

“Yeah, alright, I guess,” Ginny answered, fiddling with here fork.

Her older brother quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah?” he asked skeptically.

“Well, no,” she snapped, “but you don’t want to talk about that.” She looked him in the eye. “Why am I here?”

“I just thought we ought to talk,” Charlie replied, “and Mum wanted me to check on you, since you left right after Percy’s reception.”

After the reception, Ginny wanted to stop by her dad’s flat on the way back to Hogwarts, but George and Harry talked her out of it. In order to avoid Molly, she used the Floo at George’s flat. Yes, what happened was a bit frightening, but she was more angry with her Mum than she was scared of her dad. Conner shouldn’t have even been at the wedding, especially right after it seemed like her parents had made up. Her mum definitely should not have been dancing with him.

“You decided to talk to me because of _her_?” Ginny asked incredulously.

“Partly. I care about you, Ginny. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Well, I’m not. Dad hasn’t been responding to any of my letters, and Gran and Gramps sent me one this morning telling me to leave him alone,” she fumed.

Charlie unintentionally made a face that indicated he knew something that she didn’t.

“What?” Ginny shot.

“Nothing,” he quickly replied.

Ginny glared at him.

“Okay, look, don’t be upset with Mum. She’s only looking out for you.”

“What did she do now?” Ginny sassed.

“She told him not to write you,” Charlie stated flatly. “And no one else wants to hear from him right now, not even George.”

Ginny blinked at Charlie as she processed this information. Knowing that it wasn’t her dad’s choice not to communicate with her made her feel a little better. On the other hand, her mother had no right to make that decision. It was understandable for her brothers, especially Percy, to be upset with their dad, but to cut him out of their lives completely? “I don’t believe this,” she burst out as she stood. “She’s the one at fault here! Imagine how Dad must feel! None of his kids want to have anything to do with him and he isn’t allowed to talk to the one who does?” she asked indignantly.

Charlie stood up as well, but more calmly. “You saw how he ruined Percy and Audrey’s wedding reception – and then what happened two nights before that.”

“Yeah, I was there. He almost died two nights before that _because_ of Mother and Conner.”

“Exactly, Ginny. Nothing is going to stop him from drinking. The less any of us are around that, especially you, the better,” Charlie argued, “Besides, it sounds like he has Gran and Gramps and his brothers.”

“So?”

“So?” Charlie repeated with a shrug.

“He should have his wife and his kids. Dad has always been there for us. Tell me one time he wasn’t,” Ginny challenged.

Charlie floundered. After a moment, he retorted, “That’s different. We were never a danger to everyone around us. There is a line that you cross, and he crossed it miles ago!”

Not wanting to hear another word, Ginny stormed out of the house, leaving her lunch virtually untouched and her brother dumbfounded.


	35. Cursed

Over the next month, things improved substantially with Arthur. It took a while, but he finally engaged in the counselling sessions; however, he still didn’t share; he listened and paid attention, at least. He would even stick around afterward to chat. For some reason – perhaps curiosity - he continued to go on Monday night even though that’s when Conner went; the Irishman also continued going when he found out Arthur was attending.

Things soon returned to normal at work. People stopped talking about him behind his back. The weekly meetings with Kingsley were rather refreshing; Arthur made a conscious effort to go when Percy wouldn’t be there. He would end up going to lunch with his brothers or friends from work several times a week. As the Department of Muggle Relations grew more efficient, Arthur found himself surprised with his ability to get a new department running.

Most of the weight Arthur had lost, he regained, thanks to Gran. Working with Gramps nearly every morning before work and all weekend, restored his toned, muscular form even more so than during the war. Arthur ceased to stay at work late and became less short-tempered with his grandparents the week following the little talk he’d had with Gramps. After a while, he got used to, and rather enjoyed, people coming in and out every day, being able to see family that he only rarely got to see over the past decade or so.

All in all, things were looking up, except for the empty feeling he still couldn’t shake, the continued incessant urge to drink, still not having full use of his left hand, and not having heard from his wife or any of his kids, not even Ginny. Of course, he had told her not to contact him, but he didn’t think she would actually obey. With Christmas and their thirtieth wedding anniversary coming up in a few weeks, he thought Molly would have at least sent him a letter; maybe she was finally done with him or else she was waiting on him to reach out to her…but he was afraid to. Yes, he missed her terribly and wanted nothing else but to be with her again. The problem he faced was that this may very well be his last chance, and he did not want to blow it. The longer he put it off, the longer he could fool himself.

The first weekend in December found Arthur helping Gramps finish building a small extension onto the barn. To best assist his grandfather, Arthur took off work Friday, attended the Thursday morning counselling session, and moved the end-of-week department meeting to Thursday. Both Friday and Saturday, they woke up and started well before dawn and worked until hours after dusk, the only break lasting ten minutes for lunch. And, Of course, the only time Gramps allowed magic while working was to enable them to work longer by encompassing them with warmth and providing light after the sun had set. Sunday was much the same as the previous two days, the only difference being that they completed their work in the late afternoon.

Gratefully, Arthur showered after he ate a quick bite. He wiped fog off the mirror and closely studied his reflection. After a long time of contemplation, he finally decided to shave the beard off completely. He had imagined he would have grown to like the beard after having it for months, but he still absolutely hated it.

Still burning up from working, the shower, and the fire Gran had crackling in the fireplace, Arthur put on a plain, white tank-top, didn’t bother buttoning his overshirt, and rolled up his sleeves.

Thankful that no one was on the couch except the dog, Arthur shoved Sid over and stretched out on his back, his necklace glinting in the firelight. Gramps chuckled. Gran smiled contentedly at him from her rocking chair across the room.

“Great Uncle Artie, will you play with us?” one of his great nephews asked excitedly. Alexander and Margaret had brought three of their grandsons for a visit. While the boys played on the floor, Arthur’s eldest brother and his wife sat on the loveseat. Gramps sat in his armchair.

“Not right now,” Arthur yawned. Sid the Sheepdog curled up on top of him. “Maybe later,” he mumbled as his eyelids suddenly grew heavy.

**oOoOo**

_Hiss…hissss._

_He was in and out of consciousness, but Arthur could swear he heard something in the cold silence of the Department of Mysteries - or perhaps he was only dreaming._

_Hiissss._

_There it was again. It seemed to be getting closer._

_Hiiisssss._

_He tore his eyes open and jumped up as the dim light from his wand revealed a large snake emerging from the dark._

_He was too late. The beast struck –_

_Once._

_Fangs plunged deep into his flesh. He screamed. A fire burned within his veins with an intensity he had never imagined possible._

_Twice._

_The corridor echoed with the sound of ribs cracking under powerful jaws. Arthur stumbled backwards. Blood gushed from the large gash._

_Three times._

_The fangs ripped through his neck, barely missing his jugular. He grasped the side of his neck and collapsed against the door behind him, warm blood trickling through his fingers._

_He tried to stand, but was paralyzed. By fear, or pain, or some other force, he did not know. The snake approached once again - No, this wasn’t right. Something was supposed to spook it. It was supposed to slither away._

“Arthur.”

_It reared its head._

“ _Arthur_.”

_Its red fangs glistened in the dim light._

“Wake up!”

_The snake struck one last time._

“ _Arthur, wake up!”_

Arthur’s eyes shot open, heart pounding, cold sweat dripping from his forehead, gasping for air. A miniature version of that godforsaken snake stared up at him with black, beady eyes as it slithered up from the floor and onto his chest. Carelessly, Gramps grabbed it before handing it off to Alexander next to him.

“Arthur?” Gramps said uncertainly, worry etched on his face.

“Where did that bloody thing come from?” Arthur panted, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” Alexander apologized. “The kids –“

“Why do they have an effing snake?” he demanded.

“It’s just a toy. It’s harmless,” his oldest brother explained. “George gave it to them at the shop.”

Gramps and Alexander gave Arthur some space as he sat up. He pulled his legs out from under Sid who remained curled up on the end of the couch, unperturbed. Arthur ran his hands through his hair. Without another word, he stood and left the room, discretely feeling his chest and neck.

Not entirely sure how he got there, Arthur found himself retching into the toilet. He remained kneeling for a moment, making sure he was finished. Unsteadily, he got to his feet, washed his hands, rinsed his mouth out, and splashed water on his face. The cold water dripped from his chin and nose as he tried to control his breathing.

He took a seat on the edge of the bathtub after drying his face and hands. A throbbing heat ran through the scars from the snake attack. He held a hand to his chest as a general pain grew in it, holding his breath as he waited for it to pass.

A sudden knock at the door gave him a start. He snapped his head in the direction of the noise. “Who is it?” he croaked.

“It’s me,” Gran answered.

After a moment’s hesitation, Arthur said, “Come –“ His voice cracked, so he cleared his throat and repeated more firmly, “Come in.”

“I brought you some tea,” Gran said as she closed the door behind her.

Arthur reached for it with a trembling hand. When the hot liquid splashed over the sides of the mug, he gestured for her to set it on the counter.

After Gran set the mug on the sink, she turned back to him and felt his forehead with the back of her hand. “Are you feeling well?” she asked, frowning. “You’re awfully pale, and you gave us quite a scare.”

“I’m okay,” Arthur said as he moved her hand away.

The hand on his chest drew her attention to the scars above his tank top. She gently moved his head to the side and narrowed her eyes at the scars on the side of his neck.

“What?” Arthur asked.

“Have you been scratching?” Gran asked.

“Of course not,” Arthur replied. Looking down and pulling his shirt away from him to see the scars underneath, he saw they were an angry red color, looking as if they had only just healed.

He abruptly stood to have a better look in the mirror. However, the dull, tight pain in his chest became a sharp pain that hit him with an intensity he had never experienced before. He grimaced and clutched his chest before collapsing. Gran grabbed his elbow to help ease him down.

“Costin, could you come in here please?” she calmly called. “ _Now_.”

A few seconds later, Gramps stuck his head in. He rushed over when he saw Arthur doubled over on the floor,

“He needs to go to St. Mungo’s,” Gran told him.

Gramps nodded in reply. He called for Alexander while helping Arthur up. As soon as Alexander appeared, Gramps told him, “Get the boys out of the living room then go to St. Mungo’s and tell them we’re on the way.”

Alexander nodded and disappeared.

“I’m fine,” Arthur grunted. “It’s just – heartburn.”

“You’re going. It’s not up for debate,” Gramps stated firmly as he helped Arthur to the fireplace in the living room.

When they got to St. Mungo’s, Healers immediately took Arthur back and ran diagnostic spells. Everything appeared relatively normal. Not long after, the intense chest pain subsided to a dull one and he caught his breath. The scars, however, remained bright red and continued to burn.

An hour later, Arthur, his grandparents, and Alexander still waited on further testing to tell them what exactly happened. Finally, there was a knock on the door and one of the Healers from earlier, Healer Buxton, entered.

Healer Buxton pulled out his quill and braced his clipboard on his forearm. “Mr. Weasley, there are a few more questions I need to ask you. Other than the chest pain and shortness of breath, did you experience any other symptoms? Sweating, trembling, nausea, dizziness, et cetera?” he prompted.

Arthur nodded.

“Which ones?”

“All of them.”

“Okay.” Healer Buxton scribbled on his clipboard. “Did anything out of the ordinary occur before this happened?”

“No,” Arthur answered.

Healer Buxton raised an eyebrow. “Did anything happen that made you feel on-edge or uneasy? Have you been under a lot of stress lately?”

Arthur hesitated. He glanced over at his grandparents and eldest brother. Before answering, he cleared his throat. “I was asleep. I had a – uh – a nightmare, but that’s not unusual. Everything started right after I woke up.”

Healer Buxton hummed and scribbled more notes. He looked back up. “Do you have a history of panic attacks?” he asked.

“No.”

Healer Buxton put his clipboard to his side. “Mr. Weasley, you did not have a heart attack. That was determined when you first came in, and most of the tests came back normal. So, with that being said and with what you have told me, it sounds like you had a panic attack. If the dream was vivid and realistic enough, it could have brought one on, or it could have been stress. There are a number of things that can cause a panic attack. This may be the only one you ever have, or it may become quite common. And it is not unusual to confuse a panic attack with a heart attack, especially if you have never had one before.”

“So I didn’t even need to come in?” Arthur asked.

Healer Buxton took a deep breath. “While you did not have a heart attack and panic attacks are not necessarily harmful, there has been damage to your heart. When you were here seven weeks ago, Healer Wilson told you that your heart has been gradually growing weaker over the past three years?” Healer Buxton asked.

Arthur nodded.

“What I am seeing today is…more than that. And it is something that has only occurred recently. It most likely happened this afternoon, but I am at a loss for what caused it. Further testing should clear a few things up.”

“It’s probably from you working him so hard,” Gran fussed at Gramps. “I told you to take it easy on him.” Gramps did not respond, but wore an expression that showed how much he hoped she was wrong.

Healer Buxton cleared his throat and continued, “Since your scars are acting abnormally, it may be connected to that and unrelated to the panic attack. Healer Smethwyck will look further into that since he treated you and specializes in that area.” He glanced at his watch. “I will be back in with Healer Smethwyck shortly if no one has any questions.” When Arthur shook his head and none of the other Weasleys made to respond, Healer Buxton gave them a small smile and left.

Arthur let his head fall against the pillows and closed his eyes. Great, that’s exactly what he needed - for something else to be wrong with him. A broken arm? Fine; that could be mended in a jiffy. A bunch of deep gashes because a snake thought he would be a tasty snack? Okay; it may take a bit longer, but it could be fixed. Damage to his heart? They already told him that would be an easy fix. Panic attacks, a drinking problem, being miserable all the time? No, he could not deal with those. A wand couldn’t be waved and make everything better - How was _any_ of that supposed to be made better?

“Arthur,” Gran brought him out of his thoughts, “what did you dream about?” She moved from her chair to sit on the bed.

Arthur opened his eyes, but didn’t look at her. Instead, he stared at the wall in front of him. “I don’t dream anymore,” he mumbled. “I only have nightmares.”

Gran rubbed his leg. “Well, what was it about, Dear?” she gently prodded.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Arthur said evenly. “I’ve talked about it extensively with Molly in the past, so I don’t need to talk about it now.”

“You probably should.”

“Irene,” Gramps interrupted softly. “He’s talked about it with Molly. He doesn’t have to tell us anything.”

“It might help him if he talked about it now, Costin,” Gran disagreed. “It is clearly still bothering him.”

“It was about the war,” Arthur admitted. If he gave her that much, maybe she would drop the subject, but he was wrong. It only prompted more questions.

“Which one?” Gran asked.

“I only fought in one,” Arthur snapped. “Are you daft, old woman?”

“Do not speak to your grandmother that way,” Gramps scolded, causing Arthur to shrink back into the pillows.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur apologized sheepishly.

Gran smiled sadly at him. “I think you’ve fought in more than one, Love…I was speaking metaphorically as well.”

Arthur should have realized that. Gran always was one for metaphors. Now, he knew exactly what she meant; it seemed like his whole life had been a series of literal and metaphorical wars. “It was about the real one,” he finally answered her question. “Can we leave it at that?”

To his relief, Gran didn’t pester him about it anymore.

The four Weasleys sat in silence. Arthur propped against the pillows, arms crossed and eyes closed; he was absolutely exhausted. Gran remained on the edge of the bed and watched him intently. Gramps read a Quidditch magazine; every once in a while, he glanced up at his wife and grandson. Alexander disappeared for a few minutes; when he came back, he had a crossword with him.

“Arthur,” Gran started again.

Arthur hummed, letting her know he was awake and listening.

“Do your scars still hurt?” she asked.

“Mm-hmm,” he replied with a small, slow nod.

“You never did tell us how you got them,” Gran stated. Gramps set the magazine in his lap and eyed his wife warily. Alexander also looked up from his crossword, quill hovering over the paper.

Arthur didn’t bother opening his eyes. “Working for the Order,” he mumbled.

“I gathered as much,” Gran said. “More specifically.”

“Doesn’t matter now, does it?” Arthur said.

The snake slithered out from the darkness of his eyelids. Arthur’s eyes snapped open. He hoped no one noticed as he tried to calmly glance around the room. He knew it was irrational to think Nagini would be there. He’d seen her severed body after the Battle of Hogwarts, after all.

“If you’re a werewolf, we’ll still love you,” Gran stated bluntly.

Gramps shook his head as he ran a hand over his face and sighed heavily, not believing his wife had just come out and asked that question. Alexander set his quill down and leaned back in his chair, bracing his elbow on the back of his hand while hiding his mouth behind his other fist. Arthur stared open-mouthed at Gran.

“You don’t actually think…” he trailed off, dumbfounded.

“It had crossed our minds,” Gramps admitted. “We were going to let you tell us in your own time.”

“And if you are, it would explain a few things - the change in personality and aggressive behavior, for example,” Alexander said, his words muffled behind his fist. “Not to mention, you were in the Dai Llewellyn Ward for quite some time.”

“Excuse me. You’re stereotyping. One of my closest friends was a werewolf and he was one of the kindest, calmest people I’ve known,” Arthur defended. “Do not assume they are all the same.

“Besides, there are a few things wrong with that theory,” Arthur continued. “Wouldn’t you or someone else from the fourth floor have been involved with my treatment if I were cursed?” he asked Alexander.

“Well – yes,” Alexander said.

Arthur turned to his grandparents, and said. “And I would have had to transform twice since I moved in with you.” The past few years, he had taken to tracking the full moon because of Remus. Even though Remus had been killed, he continued to track it, either as habitat or in remembrance.

“We thought about that. Your grandfather and I go to bed early, so you could have snuck out,” Gran reasoned.

Arthur had to admit she had a point there, but he pushed on. “Okay. Well, do these even _look_ like werewolf marks?”

Alexander shrugged. “They could be,” he answered. “We only get to see what’s above your shirt. It could have gotten you with only two claws until further down.” 

Arthur blew out an exasperated breath with a scowl on his face. “I am not a werewolf,” he stated firmly.

“I will let the others know,” Alexander said to himself and Gramps, but Arthur heard him as well.

“Who all thinks this?” Arthur asked incredulously, eyebrows furrowed.

“Trent…Neil…Ian…” Alexander listed. “Desmond just thinks you’ve been being an arsehole – We’ve discussed this a bit if you couldn’t tell.”

“No, I never would have guessed,” Arthur said sarcastically.

“Trent and Neil may have a pool going with the older nieces and nephews,” Alexander continued.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Great. Do I get the pot since I found out?”

A knock at the door interrupted, and Healers Buxton and Smethwyck entered.

“Well, Arthur, that damned snake keeps causing us problems, eh?” Healer Smethwyck began to chat in an attempt to lighten the mood. Understanding dawned on the three older Weasleys. “How are Molly and the kids?”

“Alright,” Arthur answered shortly, hoping he would not pursue the topic further.

“And this must be –“ Healer Smethwyck began before interrupting himself as he spotted Alexander. “Oh! Alexander, I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Are you on-call tonight?”

“No, I believe Beatrice is,” Alexander said, referring to the Healer-in-Charge of his ward. “Arthur’s my brother. Didn’t you know that, Hippocrates?” Alexander asked his colleague.

“Oh, hmm, I don’t suppose I ever really thought about it,” Healer Smethwyck mused before introducing himself to the two older Weasleys and explaining that he was the Healer who treated Arthur after the snake attack. He turned back to Arthur. “Healer Buxton filled me in. He said last time you were in here they told you there was still venom in your system?”

Arthur nodded.

With a shake of his head, Healer Smethwyck frowned. “That’s not possible. I checked before I let you go three years ago. Everything was clear. You couldn’t have survived with venom still in your bloodstream,” he explained. “I don’t know what they were thinking. Last time you were here, they should have gotten me if they suspected there was something amiss. So, I’m going to check you over and see if we can’t figure out what the problem is.”

“Another Healer will be joining us shortly as well,” Healer Buxton put in.

Arthur sat up and pulled his shirt off, remembering the old routine. The scars were no longer red, but had faded to pink. As Healer Smethwyck took out his wand, Arthur laid back again.

Healer Smethwyck performed several tests, checking for any residual effects from the snake. He was just finishing the last test when another Healer, white hair pulled neatly into a bun, silently entered. The much older witch and Alexander nodded to each other in greeting as Alexander moved to lean against the windowsill.

After the additional Healer introduced herself as Healer Crowley, she pulled out her wand and repetitively muttered an unfamiliar incantation as she carefully traced the scars on Arthur’s neck, shoulder, and chest. The scars glowed black as the wand passed over them. Gran and Gramps looked on ignorantly. Alexander, on the other hand, stood up straight and crossed his arms as his expression suddenly hardened with a gravity Arthur had never before seen his older brother convey.

When Healer Crowley finished with the scars, she held her wand a few inches above Arthur and slowly moved it along the length of his body while muttering the same incantation. She stepped back and waited a few seconds. A large, black glow emanated from the center of Arthur’s chest. Alexander ran his hands down his face and took a deep breath.

Healer Crowley cleared her throat. “Mr. Weasley, you can get dressed. We will be back in a few minutes,” she said professionally. Not one of the three on-duty Healers indicated whether the results were good or bad.

Alexander strode across the room, following his colleagues out. Gramps’s voice stopped him with his hand on the doorknob. “Where are you going?”

“With them.”

“What was all that about?” Arthur asked.

Alexander shut the door the rest of the way, but kept his hand on the doorknob. “I can’t tell you,” he replied, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“How serious is it?” Gran implored.

“They have more information on this case than I do.”

“But you know what they found out,” Arthur claimed evenly.

Alexander breathed, “Yeah,” and nodded once. He wrenched the door open and left to find the other Healers.

Arthur could not rest during the absence of Healers this time. If it had not been for Alexander’s reaction, he and his grandparents would have had no reason to be concerned.

Four years prior, Alexander had become the Deputy Healer of the Cyprian Youdle Ward for Serious Curses – the youngest Deputy Healer at St. Mungo’s in five hundred years – and had specialized in curses since he was a Trainee Healer fresh out of Hogwarts. When he became a Prefect his fifth year and gained access to the restricted section of the library by Professor Dippet himself, Alexander spent all of his free time studying curses and similar forms of dark magic. He truly was an expert in his field. If he was as perturbed as he let on, there was something very wrong, indeed.

After he redressed, Arthur leaned back on the pillows. Gran stood at the head of the bed and leisurely ran her fingers through his hair, something she had done when he was a child; this simple action soon calmed his nerves. He had forgotten how soothing it was. Gramps, however, was not so composed; he paced in front of the window until the Healers came back in with Alexander, who had now managed to school his features. Arthur sat bolt upright.

Healer Smethwyck was the first to speak. “Arthur, we can discuss this privately first or your family can stay, whichever you prefer.”

Alexander took a step back toward the door and Gramps held out his hand to Gran, expecting Arthur to send them away. Ignoring her husband, Gran placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder and gave a light squeeze. Arthur looked over at her hand then looked into a face etched with worry, silently pleading with him to let her stay.

Arthur turned back to the Healers. “They can stay if they want,” he answered firmly.

Gramps managed to get Gran to sit down with him and held her hand tightly. Alexander, however, did not move.

“Arthur, I can step outside,” Alexander offered.

“You don’t have to.”

With that reassurance, Alexander resumed his place on the windowsill.

As soon as everyone was settled again, Healer Smethwyck began. “Good news first: as suspected, there is definitely no venom in your system. It is long gone. And no other _natural_ ,” he said carefully, “complications from the snake were found.”

That was a relief. There had been enough problems immediately following the snake attack. At least he didn’t have to deal with them again. But, there was still the matter of the unnerving black glow from the last test and the careful choice of words Healer Smethwyck used.

“So what’s the bad news?” Arthur asked, ready to hit it head on.

“Dark magic was detected,” Healer Crowley, Healer-in-Charge of the Cyprian Youdle Ward, answered.

Arthur crossed his arms and cocked his head slightly. “I don’t understand,” he said, eyebrows knit together. “I have never encountered a cursed object, not like that. How is this possible?”

“It doesn’t have to be an object,” Healer Crowley informed.

“It is extremely rare, but a highly-skilled witch or wizard can place a curse on a creature without it harming the creature itself, but whoever it scratches or bites,” Healer Smethwyck explained. “It is similar to how a werewolf’s curse is transferred; someone is bitten or scratched by a werewolf on a full moon, that person is then infected as well. In your case, what we can figure is that Voldemort put a curse on the snake, then, you contracted the curse when it bit you.”

Gramps spoke up before Arthur had a chance to finish processing what had been said. “Why has it taken you three years to find this?” he questioned, a bit more aggressively than he probably intended.

“When I was treating Arthur, I did not find it necessary to check for dark magic. He came in for a creature attack. I had very little information, so I did not know it was a special snake that attacked him. If I had known it was Voldemort’s snake, I would have checked. This is all on me, and I apologize for my negligence,” Healer Smethwyck sincerely apologized. “This never should have gone unnoticed.”

“You can remove it, can’t you?” Gran followed up hopefully.

Healer Crowley answered this time. “In this case, no, it cannot be removed. If someone comes into contact with a cursed object, they usually make a full recovery although it may take some time; it is ultimately dependent on the curse, though. Creatures, on the other hand, are more complicated; they pass along the curse through the bloodstream – not to mention, the dark magic we detected is exceptionally powerful. It is impossible to remove.”

Arthur rubbed his face then asked, “What does this mean?”

“We’re not entirely sure. There is very little known about this particular type of dark magic, but one common thread that runs throughout all cases involving dark magic is that each case must be handled differently. Yours is especially unique because of the extraordinary circumstances,” Healer Crowley said.

Healer Smethwyck added, “Like I said, it is extremely rare that a witch or wizard can magically alter a creature like this. It is even more rare that someone survives once they’ve been attacked by said creature.” He raised his eyebrows. “This happens once in a thousand years.”

“So what happens now?” Arthur asked.

“We monitor it,” Healer Crowley answered.

“Monitor it?” Arthur scoffed. “Until what?”

“By monitoring it, we can learn how it behaves. While it cannot be removed, we may be able to treat whatever ill effects it causes. From what we can tell right now, it has been targeting your heart, but has remained relatively dormant. Given time, we could possibly find out what triggers it.”

“You could have been monitoring it for the past three years if people did their job right to begin with,” Gramps shot, eyeing Healer Smethwyck. Gran laid a placating hand on his shoulder. It took a lot for Gramps to become angry, but when he did, it would make Hagrid cower. “You would already have the answers you need and this entire situation could have been avoided.”

Alexander gained the attention of the room when he cleared his throat and took a step forward. “They followed protocol. Healer Smethwyck is the Healer-in-Charge of his ward and knows how to do his job properly. There were no signs to indicate any dark magic was present, so there was no reason for them to check,” he said professionally. “This was no one’s fault. What’s important is that we are aware of it now.”

Gramps backed down after that.

“Healer Buxton said there was damage,” Arthur said. “How much are we talking about?”

“Well, the records from last time you were here have helped give a more accurate reading for today. Over the past three years, up until about seven weeks ago, your heart function has gradually decreased about five percent – That’s about 0.14 percent each month, so it’s nothing to be too concerned about right now,” Healer Buxton answered. “But in the past several weeks, it has decreased another five percent, most of which abruptly occurred today. A ten percent loss is not necessarily bad, especially since you’ve had a very good health history,” he tried softening the blow.

“But this will eventually kill me.”

“Most likely,” Healer Buxton said. “However, optimistically, you could live another twenty-seven years with gradually decreasing health if you never have another episode like you had today – and that is without any treatment.”

Twenty-seven years. _Twenty…seven…years._ Sure, it was better than two or three, but Arthur had hoped he’d live another ninety at the least, especially since he’d managed to survive two wars. He’d only make it a few years past middle-age if their calculations were correct. “If that’s being optimistic, what’s the worst case scenario then?” he asked hotly.

“There is no way to tell. It’s dependent on too many variables, and we don’t have hardly any information.”

“No, tell me, if you had to take a guess, what would you say? Weeks? Months? Years?”

“Arthur, that is without treatment. There is no reason to worry about that,” Alexander cut in before Arthur could get himself even more worked up. “Let’s just focus on gathering information and finding out what can help minimize the damage it causes.”

“So, what can help?” Gran asked, making sure Arthur couldn’t respond with another hostile comment. “What treatments are there?”

“We won’t know for a few months. We’ll have to learn more about the curse before we can develop a plan, and then there are still no guarantees,” Healer Crowley explained.

“They mentioned something about strengthening charms last time I was here,” Arthur said evenly, actively working to calm himself.

Healer Crowley flipped a few pages over in Arthur’s chart. The white-haired witch held up her spectacles and scanned the page. “Ah, yes,” she said. She looked back up at Arthur. “Placing strengthening charms around your heart could be a possibility, but we do not want to do that unless absolutely necessary. We try not to do anything invasive until we have tried other avenues. Usually, a procedure like that is fairly simple and low-risk, but this new information complicates things quite a bit. There is no way of knowing how the dark magic will respond or if the charms will even be effective.”

“Could you do anything to help with his bad mood in the meantime?” Gran asked seriously.

Healer Crowley peered at Gran. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“He hasn’t been acting like himself recently,” Gran elaborated. “That’s because of the curse, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Alexander explained. “Curses – dark magic – none of it impacts mood or changes personality. I mean – yes, it tends to corrupt the person practicing dark magic, but it doesn’t affect victims in that way.”

“That’s right.” Healer Crowley lifted her clipboard again and readied her quill. “For now, we need to see if we can figure out what causes the curse to become active. Do you know what caused the panic attack today?”

“I had a nightmare,” Arthur said with a shrug, as if it was insignificant.

“It could be helpful to know what it was about. Do you remember anything?”

“The night I was attacked, but that’s a common occurrence. I mean, I don’t have it as much as I used to, but I have it once a week, or maybe every other week.”

Healer Crowley hummed as she took quick notes. “Was it any different this time?” she asked and looked back up.

Arthur stared at the bed as he thought for a moment, attempting to recall what exactly happened in the dream.

“What about that toy the kids were playing with? Was that the snake that attacked you?” Gran tried to help, but Arthur was too deep in thought to notice.

“That was just a toy,” Alexander replied. “It wouldn’t have done anything except maybe trigger the nightmare and possibly make it more realistic; it has to do with the subconscious.”

“I didn’t survive,” Arthur finally muttered. He looked up at Healer Crowley. “Every single time, it has replayed the attack precisely, down to the tiniest, most insignificant detail.” He unconsciously scratched the side of his neck. “And they’re always realistic. I’ve never had a dream or a nightmare as realistic as this one. It’s…It’s like I’m reliving it physically as well as mentally.”

Alexander moved closer to the foot of the bed and crossed his arms, intrigued. “Can you think back to other times you had this nightmare? Did you experience any similar symptoms? Chest pain, burning or reddening of the scars…”

Arthur thought again. “I don’t know. I usually wake up a bit pale, so the scars appear a little more red than normal. I’ve woken up with heartburn as well, but that comes with age, I suppose,” he dismissed.

“Every time?”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Yeah…I think so,” he answered uncertainly.

“Arthur…that’s not heartburn,” Alexander said, shaking his head. “Did you not find it odd that you’d have heartburn every time you had this nightmare?”

Arthur shrugged. “It was happening so often I stopped paying attention to it after a while.”

“Well, it seems the dark magic is triggered by the nightmares, and the amount of damage inflicted is dependent on the intensity of the nightmare,” Healer Crowley deduced. “From what you’ve told us, the nightmares have remained relatively consistent, which would support the gradual decrease in heart function. The change in the nightmare this afternoon reflects the more significant damage.

“It is also a possibility that the curse is generating the nightmares. The curse and the nightmares could be feeding off each other – a sort of symbiotic relationship, if you will - but we would need to admit you for a few days to determine anything definite – And please keep in mind this is all conjecture at this point,” Healer Crowley added.

She put her clipboard to her side. “We have a lot to look into, but we’re going to let you go home. You should be fine. Make an appointment with either me or Healer Weasley here in about two weeks for a follow-up, then you’ll probably have to come back every two months.

“In the meantime, it is crucial that you take care of yourself. Get plenty of rest. Watch your stress level. Maintain a healthy diet. Get plenty of exercise, but don’t overdo it. And, strictly, no smoking or drinking,” Healer Crowley instructed. “You need to be proactive in keeping your heart healthy. Partaking in unhealthy behaviors will not help your situation any.”

The Healers finally took their leave. Arthur wasn’t exactly sure how he felt, but he knew he wasn’t happy about any of this. He’d rather have had a heart attack, to be honest.

It wasn’t much longer before the four were able to leave, all of them ready to get home. Before they left the room, Arthur gave his grandparents and brother a warning. “ _No one_ breathes a word of this to anyone,” he stressed. “If I decide to tell anyone, that is up to me.”

The other three gave their assurances.

“You will tell Molly and the kids at some point, though, won’t you?” Gran asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Arthur mumbled. “It won’t much matter if they never speak to me again, will it?”

A few minutes later found them walking through the maze of corridors toward the exit.

"I'll understand if you don't want me to be your Healer,” Alexander said as he and Arthur followed Gran and Gramps. “Healer Crowley does have about forty years’ experience on me, after all.’

"You had my complete confidence before she even said anything. You’re an expert in your field and probably know more than she does about this,” Arthur said. He rubbed at the scars on his shoulder. "Listen, you don't have to feel obligated to be my Healer. I don't want to put that kind of pressure and responsibility on you.”

"You'll be like any other patient."

"Oh, so that's your usual reaction whenever someone tests positive for a life-threatening curse," Arthur quipped.

Alexander made a gesture resembling a mixture between a shrug and a grimace. "Sorry about that,” he apologized sheepishly. “I was just not expecting that.”

"Gee, you'd think your boss - who was on-call, by the way - coming in there would have given you some idea about what was going on."

"Okay, well, what do you expect? You’re my little brother. There's going to be some level of personal involvement."

They turned down another long corridor. There was only one more turn before they got to the large waiting area and, subsequently, the Floos.

"There are a few things you need to understand if you're going to be my Healer,” Arthur said. “If I decline to do something, that's it, alright? The final decision is mine."

Alexander cast a sideways glance at Arthur. "I am capable of separating work and family, you know." 

"If I opt not to do some treatment or something, you can’t turn into the overprotective older brother like you have always been so prone to do,” Arthur rephrased.

"Okay!” Alexander threw up his hands. “In my office, as a Healer, I will only advise you as a Healer should. I won't pressure you into doing anything you don't want to do."

"And you can't talk about my condition, or treatment, or anything else that happens here with anyone."

"I couldn't do that if I wanted - Healer-patient confidentiality."

Arthur halted and put a hand out to stop Alexander. He looked his eldest brother in the eye. "Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked seriously. “Because it may take a while, but if nothing works and worse comes to worse...we know where this is headed."

"I can handle it," Alexander assured quietly. "But if it gets to a point where I realize I can't, then I'll tell Healer Crowley and she'll take over. She and I already discussed all of this."

Arthur looked searchingly into his brother’s eyes. "Okay,” he finally said and stuck his hand out.

"Okay,” Alexander repeated, placing his hand in Arthur’s. The two brothers shook hands and continued down the corridor after their grandparents.

As soon as they turned down the last corridor to the main waiting area, Arthur saw someone sitting there he was not prepared for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter for now. Currently working on 36 and this is the last week of the semester, so hopefully I'll get more posted more quickly.


	36. Easing In

**Easing In**

Arthur spun around and dragged Alexander backwards by the upper arm back around the corner. An _"oof"_ escaped Alexander as Arthur accidentally shoved him a bit too hard against the wall.

"You got _Molly_?" Arthur asked incredulously, hand still on his brother’s chest.

Alexander narrowed his eyes at his brother in disbelief. “Arthur…we thought you were having a heart attack.”

"We found out that wasn't the case hours ago."

"And I came out and told her,” Alexander said, gesturing toward the waiting room.

"Why is she still here then?" Arthur questioned.

With a shrug, Alexander calmly asked, "How am I supposed to know?"

Arthur poked his head around the corner, his hand holding Alexander in place. Gran and Gramps were walking back towards them. Past his grandparents, Molly was curled up in a chair, head propped against her hand and eyes closed. Arthur pulled his head back.

"Get rid of her," Arthur commanded as he crossed his arms, finally letting go of his brother.

"What!" Alexander exclaimed, taken aback. "No."

"You're the reason she's here."

"No, Arthur, _you_ are the reason she is here," he enunciated.

Gran and Gramps came around the corner. "Everything alright?" Gramps asked.

"Arthur's just overreacting," Alexander responded, resting the back of his head against the wall.

"Am not."

"I don't know everything that's happened between you two, but she has waited around all evening for you,” Alexander said.

"That doesn't mean she wants to see me."

"If that were the case, she would have left after I told her you were okay,” Alexander reasoned.

"Son, you should talk to her,” Gramps said.

Arthur briefly peaked around the corner again at his sleeping wife. He sighed. "What if I said I'm not ready to talk to her?” he said with a defeated tone.

"Why is that?" Gran asked.

Arthur hesitated. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but never spoke. Finally, he blurted, "I’m just not! Okay?"

"Even though you don't talk about it, we can tell how much you miss her.”

"We have really enjoyed you staying with us, but that's not where you belong and that's not where you are happiest. If you can work things out, you shouldn’t keep putting it off,” Gramps advised. “It’s not good for either of you."

"And I can hang around and talk to her with you about what we just found out," Alexander offered.

Arthur looked as though he'd seen a Dementor. "No - no, I am not telling her," he said firmly. With that, he left his grandparents and brother behind as he rounded the corner and walked towards the waiting area.

It looked like Molly was fast asleep, though not comfortably. He could walk right past her and she would never know he had been anywhere near her. She'd wake up in a little while and find out from the Welcome Witch that he'd been discharged. That is, if his grandparents and Alexander didn't wake her. Then there would be the issue that she would not be happy with him at all if she found out he knowingly walked straight past her.

Arthur was only feet away from her now. It was time to make a decision: walk past her and potentially be in even more trouble while hurting her at the same time, or face his fear and talk to her. 

He turned toward the Floos...but then he came to an abrupt halt. He couldn't do that to her. He couldn't just leave her there. He wouldn't even be able to do that if there were no repercussions.

He turned around and took a seat in the empty chair next to her. For a long moment, all he did was look at her - messy copper curls in her face, lips slightly parted, knees pulled up to her chest, her wedding ring sparkling on her finger, cloak around her clutched tightly with her other hand.

Finally, Arthur made a move. Tucking hair behind her ear, he softly said, "Molly."

She snuggled further into her cloak. 

He placed a hand on the arm propping up her head. "Molly," he repeated as he gently stroked her arm.

Big, brown, beautiful eyes fluttered open.

"Arthur?" Molly whispered.

He gave her a small smile, the corners of his eyes slightly crinkled.

Molly sat up straighter. Letting go of her cloak, she reached out and caressed Arthur's smooth cheek. As she continued to inspect her husband closely, she carefully placed her feet on the ground. "You look so much better than I expected,” she whispered as she looked into his electric blue eyes.

Arthur slowly removed her hand from his cheek and set it in her lap. "You didn't have to stay,” he said just as quietly.

"I wanted to see for myself that you were okay." Molly held his hand in hers. Not breaking eye contact, she said, "I still care about you, Arthur…I still love you."

Arthur unintentionally let out a small scoff and looked away. For the first time in his relationship with Molly, he found that hard to believe, not just because of her behavior but because of his as well. How could she still love him after all the wrong he'd committed against her? After all the pain he caused her? How could she love and care for him after deliberately disobeying him? Or after abandoning him when he needed her most?

Molly gently lifted his chin with her forefinger, forcing him to look at her. "Arthur, it is true. I do love you,” she reassured her husband. “I always will.”

After Molly let go, he stared at her for several seconds before turning away again. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. As he thought more, he moved his “lucky” Knut back and forth along the gold chain of his necklace. He wanted to believe Molly more than anything, but he couldn’t make himself. He literally begged her to stop seeing Conner; a week later, she was seeing him again. He admitted he couldn’t get his shit together by himself; she abandoned him, and not for the first time. She forbade him from speaking to any of his children and threatened divorce if he did. How did any of that show she loved him? Okay, she may have a list against him like this as well, but, come on, he didn’t mean to do the things he did.

Sensing Arthur’s increasing doubt, Molly gently ran her fingers through his hair. “You’re getting inside your head again,” she softly warned him.

When he didn’t seem to have heard her, she placed her hand on top of the one that was now holding the Knut against his lips, deep in thought. She moved his hand away from his mouth. This small motion made him drop the Knut and giver her his attention.

“Alexander said a nightmare gave you a panic attack,” she stated, changing the subject. “Which one was it?” She rubbed soothing circles on his back. “Do you want to talk about it?"

"No,” Arthur answered as he sat up, then mumbled, “It's just – you know, the snake."

"What did they say about your scars?”

Arthur hesitated. He knew he should tell her. Being dishonest wouldn’t help him any, but he didn’t want this new information to influence any decision she may make. If she was going to forgive him and take him back, he wanted it to be because she felt she could trust him, not because she was concerned for his health. Not to mention, he still needed some time to process it himself. "Nothing to worry about,” he finally said.

"What did they say?" Molly pushed.

Arthur focused on some portraits of famous witches and wizards on the wall across from them. "It's nothing, Molly, really,” he assured evenly.

Molly watched him for a long moment, detecting that is was not “nothing.” He must have had a good reason for not telling her, she supposed. They would both have to rebuild each other’s trust. It would just take time.

"I'm glad you’re okay,” she said sincerely.

After fixing her hair with her fingers, Molly put her cloak back on. "Well, I'm famished. I was thinking, if you're up to it, maybe you'd like to join me for a late dinner?" she asked timidly before adding, "Not as a date or anything, just food. And to talk a bit. We may have jumped in too quickly the last couple times, wanting to go back to how things were without actually solving any problems…I don't want either of us to get hurt again."

Arthur thought for a moment. He was completely exhausted and he was afraid of getting hurt again, but it seemed like it took a lot of courage for her to ask and he didn't want her out by herself that late. Gramps also had a point; he was doing much better than the last time he'd seen her and talking seemed to be the best next step. “Okay,” he whispered.

Arthur’s grandparents and Alexander approached as the couple stood. 

"Alexander, thank you again for getting me," Molly told her brother-in-law. "And thank you for taking care of him," she told Gran and Gramps as she ran her hand down Arthur’s arm. Her cheeks grew pink before she apologized, "Gramps, I'm sorry I bit your head off at the wedding."

"No worries, Molly,” Gramps assured with a smile.

"Um – We’re going to get something to eat," Arthur said.

Gran gave a small, supportive smile.

They all said their good-byes. As Gramps was hugging Molly, he whispered in her ear, "He's staying with us. Make sure he gets home alright, won't you?"

The weight of which Gramps said this heightened Molly's suspicions that Arthur wasn't being completely honest with her about what the Healers said. "Of course," Molly assured with a nod.

A few minutes later, the couple sat across from each other in a booth at a wizard-owned 24-hour breakfast diner close to St. Mungo’s. As they waited for their food, they both got a coffee; Arthur kept his black while Molly added sugar and creamer.

"How have you been?" Molly asked.

Arthur couldn't help thinking how much he hated the way this strained and formal conversation was becoming more normal every time they spoke. He took a sip of coffee and set the mug back down on the table. "I'm a lot better than I was," he said softly.

"Yet you haven't owled or anything.”

"I'm still not the man you want,” Arthur admitted. “There are still a few things I need to work on."

"But you recognize that, and you are working on it?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes."

"What about your drinking?"

Arthur made sure he was looking her in the eye when he answered, "I'm getting help for it. I've been sober almost two months now." As a sort of afterthought, he added, "You know, I'm starting to think it was mostly habit. Most of the people I meet with had a problem for years or decades. I only drank considerably for a few months."

"Arthur, you have had difficulty controlling it ever since you came of age,” Molly calmly reminded him. She hated how someone always had to remind him of that fact or point out that he was drinking too much or too frequently. It always frightened her because it made her remember how close the reality which had recently come true was. She loved him nonetheless, so she was even more determined to monitor his drinking to ensure that reality did not come to pass. But, ultimately, she failed. “It’s only recently become a serious problem,” she continued. “And with your family's history, it only supports that. Do not start making excuses to anyone, not even yourself. And do not try to justify it. Arthur,” she reached across the table and placed her hand on top of his, giving it a tight squeeze, “you can _never_ drink again, not even if it is just a sip.”

Arthur ran his other hand through his hair. “Okay,” he said lowly with an imperceptible shrug. He figured he could keep off it for a while like he had in the past and everything would be fine. Until then, he would do or say what he needed to make Molly and anyone else happy.

“I want to hear you say it.” Picking up on the inauthenticity of his agreement, Molly added, “This is not like the other times.”

Arthur sighed. Maybe she had a point. The other times, he never had a problem stopping or cutting back. He had never been aggressive toward her or anyone else. He wouldn’t still be thinking about a drink nearly two months later. Finally, he conceded, “Okay. I can never drink again.”

The waiter came over then. After he refilled their coffees, a plate of waffles was placed in front of Molly while a plate containing a full English breakfast – bacon, fried mushrooms, fried tomatoes, fried eggs, buttered toast, beans, and bangers - was set in front of Arthur. It was obviously the least healthy option on the menu, but Gran was sure to put him on a healthier diet now, and Molly would too if he told her about the curse. This was a sort of “last meal” as far as unhealthy foods went, he supposed.

They ate in a comfortable silence. They were the only customers until two witches came in who they assumed were a mother and a daughter, both looking drawn and tired. This diner must have gotten a lot of anxious friends and family waiting to hear about a loved one in St. Mungo’s.

Molly finished eating first. She stacked her dishes neatly at the end of the table. Arthur still had half a slice of bacon, a mushroom, and some beans left.

Arthur had been deep in thought until Molly gestured to his bacon and asked, “May I?”

“You can order something else,” Arthur told her politely with a goofy grin, chuckling at how she still ended up wanting something off his plate and still timidly asking for it three decades into their marriage. It was something she had always done – when they were eleven in Hogwarts’s Great Hall where there was plenty of food, when they became best friends a couple years later and he visited her over the holidays, on their first date, (he was sure she would have asked for something at their wedding reception if they hadn’t ended up eloping), and hundreds of times since then...It was always only ever his plate she wanted food from, now he thought about it. Molly never asked any of her friends or any boyfriends she had before she and Arthur started dating.

Molly replied as she always had, “I don’t really want much else - just a nibble.”

It was never just a nibble. She always finished off whatever it was she asked for. It never bothered Arthur, though.

“Go on then,” Arthur told her, knowing full well that nibble would end up being the rest of his bacon.

Arthur silently set his silverware down and watched his wife as she took little bites out of the bacon, her eyes cast downward. He knew he missed her and all her little quirks, but he never realized just how much until now.

After a while, Molly glanced up at him. “I’m sorry. You could have told me you wanted to finish it,” she apologized, handing it back to him.

Gently pushing it back to her, Arthur said, “No, you have it. I don’t want it.”

Molly went back to taking mouse-sized bites out of the bacon. Arthur continued watching her.

“Why is it only ever my plate?” he asked suddenly.

Molly’s eyes snapped up at him. “What?” she asked, puzzled.

“You never ask for food off of anyone else’s plate – only mine.”

“Oh.” Molly pulled her head back and cocked it to the side. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I never realized I did that.”

Husband and wife stayed at the diner for a long time, just chatting. Arthur asked about the kids. All the boys seemed to be doing fine, but Molly hadn’t heard from Ginny. According to Charlie, though, she seemed to be okay. Molly asked how the new department was going. Arthur briefly thought about asking if she was still seeing Conner; in the end, he decided he would rather not know – as they say, ignorance is bliss, and, for now, Arthur wanted to live in ignorance.

Eventually, they found themselves sitting in the swing on Gran and Gramps’s front porch, a warming charm surrounding them. Stars shone brightly overhead, the dark house making them more visible.

Molly looked over at Arthur who looked back at her. “I really enjoyed this,” she sincerely said.

“Me too,” Arthur breathed. He stared at her as he debated on asking a question – one whose answer could potentially hurt him. Finally, he plucked up the courage and asked, “Would you like – Would you like to go on an official date with me? Tomorrow night?”

“I think I’d like that,” Molly whispered, a smile spreading across her face.

Arthur couldn’t stop himself from smiling back. He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek.

His happiness disappeared as quickly as it had come, though. So, Molly was willing to give him another chance it seemed like. If she was willing to do that, he ought to be completely honest with her.

“Molly,” he began hesitantly, “there’s something you need to know.” He shifted in the swing to better face her. “I didn’t tell you everything the Healers said.”

"What did they say?" Molly asked apprehensively, brow furrowed.

"My heart isn't as healthy as it should be," he eased in, "and they're not sure how things will progress."

"Alexander said it wasn't a heart attack."

"It wasn't. It's...it's dark magic."

"Dark magic?"

Arthur nodded once. "From the snake. It's been attacking my heart. And it is extremely powerful and no one has encountered a curse like this for centuries. So they don't know what to expect.

"I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to forgive me and take me back just because you thought I was dying. Please don't be angry with me," Arthur pleaded. "I'm tired of you being angry with me." 

"I'm not angry with you." Molly took his hand in hers. "I appreciate you being considerate enough not to use that to manipulate me. That really shows how much you've changed."

"I told you I'm better - Not great, but better."

"What else did the Healers say?"

"Not much. They don't think it's an immediate threat, so they're going to monitor it for now. They believe the recurring nightmare is linked to it, I need to be proactive, and Alexander is going to be my Healer. That's about it.”

Silence soon returned. The occasional hoot of an owl or moo of a cow could be heard in the distance. Small, white snowflakes began to fall, slowly blanketing the fields. The couple sat together for a long time.

“I guess I should go,” Molly said quietly as she reluctantly sat up from where she was curled up against Arthur. “Let you get some rest.”

“Yeah,” Arthur whispered, disappointed. He stood and held out his hand to Molly, helping her up. “You can use the Floo.”

“I don’t want to wake your grandparents.”

“You won’t.”

Once inside, Arthur softly kissed Molly on top of the head as she hugged him tightly.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” Arthur mumbled, having a very different view than when he had first seen her in the waiting room, as Molly grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and stepped into the fireplace. “Will you be alright by yourself tonight?” he asked, remembering how she’d told him at the diner that Ron had moved into Grimmauld Place with Harry.

“I-I think so. Will _you_ be okay?”

“I’m not alone. I have Gran and Gramps.”

Molly nodded, but did not make a move. For several minutes, she stood in the fireplace, staring at Arthur. He stared back at her.

Finally, he spoke. “I may be crossing a line, but…do you want to stay here tonight? There are plenty of extra rooms.”

Molly nodded. She stepped out of the fireplace and dropped the Floo Powder back into its container on the mantelpiece.

It did not take long for Arthur to get her set up in the room across the hall from his. She closed the door after they told each other goodnight. He changed into a pair of pajama bottoms then studied his scars in the dresser mirror. They looked perfectly normal, like any other old scars, no hint of dark magic lying within them. He traced one with his finger starting a couple inches under his collar bone, diagonally crossing his chest, and to the side of his ribcage.

Arthur finally dragged himself to bed, opening the door on his way. Unable to sleep, he stared at the ceiling as he lay there. He didn’t hear the door open across the hall. He sat up on his elbows and saw a shadow in the doorway when he heard a soft and timid, “Arthur? Are you awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think – Maybe – Can – Can I – er – sleep in here? With you?”

“Of course,” Arthur whispered, “if you’re sure that’s what you want?” He knew Molly wanted to take things slow and ease back into their relationship; he was in full agreement with that. And while sleeping in the same bed together wasn’t necessarily harmful and he was not going to make any advances, this could be a choice she would later regret.

“I am,” Molly assured, stepping into the room. Arthur grabbed his wand off the nightstand and transfigured the narrow bed into a full-sized bed before moving over to give her more room.

Once Molly was under the covers, they both rolled over, backs to each other.

A minute hadn’t even passed when Molly asked, “Will you hold me?”

Even more stunned than he already was, Arthur faltered before wordlessly rolling over on to his back. Molly met him there. She laid an arm on his chest and nuzzled up against him. He reached around and held her reassuringly. Just as they always had, their bodies fit together perfectly.

**oOoOo**

It had been so late when they went to bed it was early afternoon before they woke up. Well, before Molly woke up anyway; she couldn’t even remember the last time she slept that well. Arthur, on the other hand, hadn’t been able to sleep no matter how exhausted he was. He lay there, nevertheless, holding his wife close, and savoring it.

While Molly was in the shower, Arthur sent an owl into work, explaining that he wouldn’t be there that day due to an emergency.

Molly used the dresser mirror in Arthur’s childhood bedroom to fix her hair while Arthur took a quick shower. She noticed a neatly wrapped package on the dresser and briefly wondered who it was for.

When they went downstairs to the kitchen, Gran and Gramps were only just eating lunch. Apparently having heard movement upstairs, Gran had lunch prepared for Molly and Arthur as well. Arthur pulled Molly’s chair out for her before taking a seat himself.

“What time did you get in?” Gran asked. “You know you need the rest what with –“

“Can you pass me a napkin, Dear?” Gramps interrupted abruptly even though he already had a napkin and they were well within his reach.

“It’s okay, Gramps. I told her,” Arthur said.

“Oh, um, when are you telling the kids?” Molly asked. “I’ll be there if you want.”

“I’m not telling them.”

“They are your kids, Arthur. They have a right to know.”

“Molly, give me some time,” Arthur snapped, putting an end to that. As soon as he realized how quick-tempered his response had been, he said, “I’m sorry. That’s something I’m still working on.”

The house had been unusually quiet all morning. When they were still upstairs, Arthur assumed one of his grandparents had cast a silencing charm in order to avoid disturbing them, but it was quiet downstairs, too. He was almost done eating when he realized, for the first time since he moved in, there were no children running around.

“Where are the kids?” he asked his grandparents.

“Oh, we sent a couple owls when we got home last night saying that we couldn’t watch them today.”

“No details, of course,” Gramps added.

“Why?” Arthur asked. “It wasn’t that late when you left the hospital.”

“We figured you would take off from work and wouldn’t want to be bothered by a bunch of rambunctious children.”

Arthur hummed in understanding. He was thankful his grandparents had more foresight than he did. He hadn’t put any thought into that until then, realizing he was not in the mood for any of that today - Peace and quiet was what he needed.

When Molly finished eating, she said, “Thank you for lunch, but I should be getting back home.”

“Oh!” Arthur exclaimed as he remembered something. “I have something for you first. Wait in the living room?” Without waiting for a response, he hopped up, ran upstairs, and grabbed Molly’s birthday present off his dresser.

Molly was waiting for him as he had asked. He sat next to her on the loveseat. “Here,” he said, handing her the meticulously wrapped gift.

Carefully, Molly unwrapped the paper, revealing a perfectly polished, antique jewelry box with intricate patterns carved into the dark wood.

“Arthur, this is lovely.”

“That’s not all - Open it.”

As soon as the lid cracked open, Molly’s favorite song, Sicilienne, Op. 78, began playing. Upon seeing the contents of the jewelry box, she gasped. A double-stranded Tudor necklace lay on the red velvet interior. Every fourth pearl was followed by a ruby of similar size along the strands. The centerpiece of the necklace was a large ruby surrounded by sparkling diamonds encased in a delicate framework of gold. Dangling off the impressive centerpiece were three pairs of a ruby with a pearl beneath it. Sitting in a corner of the jewelry box was a matching pair of earrings reflecting the ruby and pearl combination that hung from the necklace’s centerpiece.

She was speechless.

Not only was the jewelry breathtakingly beautiful and incredibly expensive, but it was a Prewett family heirloom going back hundreds of years. It had been her most prized possession - mostly for sentimental reasons - until several years prior when she’d had to sell it to help pay for the kids’ school supplies.

“Happy birthday, Mollywobbles,” Arthur whispered. “Well, belated birthday.”

“Arthur, how on earth…” Molly said breathlessly.

“Well, with the insanely high raise and overtime and only Ginny at school – Then I tracked down the person who bought it and persuaded her to sell it back to me – I just found the box in a shop somewhere,” Arthur babbled incoherently. He took a deep breath. “When we had five kids in school and you had to sell it, I felt absolutely terrible – and have ever since. I promised myself I’d find a way to get it back for you someday.”

Without warning, Molly grabbed his shirtfront and kissed him soundly on the lips. Arthur froze, eyes wide. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his wife kissing him again, but this was not the way to take things slow. Last time they made up, they shagged each other within an hour and then didn’t speak for two months. Unlike last time, Arthur did not return the kiss.

“Molly,” he said, gently removing his shirt from her hands, “neither of us wants to get hurt. I don’t want to get too emotionally involved right now. I…I don’t think I could take it if things didn’t work out again.”

“Right. I’m sorry. I lost my head for a minute,” Molly confessed. “Thank you for the present. I never thought I’d see this again.”

“We’re still going on a date tonight?”

Molly smiled and nodded.

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

For the rest of the afternoon, Arthur lazed around the house. He didn’t have to think too much about the date; he was going to recreate the first date he and Molly ever went on.

When Arthur told Gran and Gramps about his plans, Gramps asked, “Shouldn’t you go to your meeting tonight?”

“I’ll go some other time this week.”

“You just had some big news dropped on you last night, and you haven’t been since Thursday morning. Don’t you think you ought to go?”

“Gramps, a few more hours won’t hurt. Molly is giving me another chance. Right now, this is more important than some stupid meeting.”

“I think they are equally important. Neglecting your sobriety could jeopardize your marriage even though that’s what you’re prioritizing.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Arthur stated firmly.

Gramps heaved a heavy sigh and left his grandson to get ready.

That night went exactly as their first date had gone, besides the fact that Arthur picked up Molly from the Burrow instead of the Gryffindor common room. After picking up Molly, who wore her necklace and earrings, Arthur apparated them to Hogsmeade. They went into a few shops before going to the restaurant. Afterwards, they took a stroll around the snow-covered, lamplit village. At the end of the night, he safely dropped her off at the Burrow, leaving without a goodnight kiss or going inside.

The night had gone much better than either of them had expected. The previous night had made it more relaxed than it would have been if Arthur had shown up out of nowhere, telling her he was ready to try again. Things had gone so well, in fact, that they agreed to go out the next night as well.


	37. Together Again

Even though Arthur and Molly intended to take things slow, they were not very successful. When you have been with someone as long as they had, it was nearly impossible not to get emotionally involved. Over the next week and a half, they went out every night.

Molly felt a contentedness she hadn’t felt in a long time. Spending time with Conner was fun; she was comfortable with him and he made her feel special, but things were different with Arthur; for the most part, he was his old self. There was a familiarity with him that she had with no one else and a love stronger than any other. She and her husband knew each other better than anyone else. And just as Arthur began to recognize her little quirks he had forgotten about, she recognized his. As they spent more time together, a mutual rekindling was felt.

No other negative effects from the dark magic occurred in that short span of time. However, Arthur continued to have problems sleeping. He would lay awake into the wee hours of the morning until unwittingly falling asleep for an hour or two. Throughout his day, he would periodically catch himself dozing off at his desk. The less he slept, the less likely it was that he would have another episode like the one that led to his trip to St. Mungo’s.

When he went in for his appointment with Alexander nearly two weeks after they discovered the curse, it was confirmed there had been no change. Arthur hadn’t thought about telling Alexander that it had been three years to the day since the attack; it didn’t seem to be significant information anyway. There still hadn’t been any leads as to what this particular curse was or how to treat it. On his date with Molly that night, he told her what Alexander had said.

Arthur stood on the Burrow’s porch with Molly after their date. He gave her a brief kiss on the lips as he had done the previous two nights. When he was leaving this time, Molly stopped him.

“Would you like to come in?” she asked.

He glanced at the door then back to her before he said, “Okay.”

Once they were inside, Molly fixed them each a cup of tea. They snuggled close together on the couch in front of a roaring fire as the wireless played softly in the background. It was reminiscent of late nights spent together when the kids were small and in bed or when they were older at school before things got so busy.

“It’s getting rather late, you know, and tomorrow is Saturday so you don’t have work,” Molly said. She mindlessly ran her fingers down the buttons of her husband’s shirt. “Maybe you ought to stay here tonight.”

“Do you want that?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t.”

Arthur stroked her hair. “Who am I to deny my queen what she wants?” he murmured before kissing her atop the head.

As they enjoyed the time in each other’s arms, all unpleasant memories melted away. The past several months seemed like nothing more than a bad dream. All that mattered now was the need to continue their life together and to feel whole once again.

Gently taking Molly’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, Arthur lifted her gaze to meet his. “I love you, Mollywobbles,” he murmured.

Their lips met, simultaneously searching to fill their need for the other. Molly slowly pushed him back then proceeded to climb on top of him. As they continued to kiss, she carefully unbuttoned his shirt.

“Wait,” Arthur breathed in a gap between kisses. “I – want –“ Unable to get the words out, he held Molly’s cheek in his hand to get her to stop long enough for him to whisper, “I want to make love with you properly this time.” In one swift motion, he collected her in his arms and carried her upstairs to their bedroom.

**oOoOo**

The reunited couple lay contentedly in each other’s arms. Molly lay on top of Arthur while he stroked her back. Rising up on an elbow, she looked at her husband and smiled at him. He smiled back, a light reappearing in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since before the war ended. She ran her soft hand across his forehead before letting it rest behind his head on the pillow.

“Come home,” Molly whispered.

Those two words meant more to Arthur than anything had in a long time, but he was still afraid of getting hurt. What if Molly ended up regretting asking him to move back in? What if she told him she had made a mistake and told him to leave again? Or what if he did something else to hurt her?

He swallowed hard before asking, “Shouldn’t you think about it more?”

“I’ve thought about it plenty.” And she had. She had been mulling it over every spare second she had for the past week. She had wanted her husband back for months before that, and now that he seemed to have his act together, she was certain she was making the right decision.

Arthur sat up and kissed her, giving her his answer and, thus, starting another round of love-making.

When they finally wore themselves out completely, they settled into their usual sleeping position – Arthur on his back holding Molly with her curled up against his side, their legs entangled. She fell fast asleep, but he remained awake. While most recent sleepless nights had been irrational, this one was not. He had forgotten what the date was until then. It was December the eighteenth. Three years ago, he had been attacked in the Department of Mysteries. On the first anniversary of the attack, he’d had a nightmare that shook him to the core. After that, he swore never to sleep on the anniversary of the attack again. With the most recent nightmare and finding out they were linked with the curse, he was going to make sure he didn’t fall asleep tonight.

Arthur was able to stay in bed for a while, but eventually had to get up when he noticed he was beginning to doze off. He got dressed and made his way downstairs. For the next couple hours, he sat up drinking the strongest coffee he could make. At some point, a ginger cat startled him when it jumped into his lap. Molly hadn’t said anything about a cat, but for the first time, he spotted a small bed in the corner of the sitting room. The young cat curled up in his lap and fell fast asleep. Arthur didn’t have anything against cats, but he did not like this one at all. He wasn’t sure why, though.

Around five o’clock, Arthur figured it would be okay to go back to his grandparents’ house. Surely, Molly wouldn’t be up for at least another two hours.

Once at his grandparents’ house, he told them Molly had asked him to move back in. They were overjoyed at the news, but a little sad that he wouldn’t be living with them anymore. Arthur quickly packed his things before going out to help Gramps with the morning chores.

About the time Arthur thought Molly would be waking up, he headed back to the Burrow and began making breakfast for the two of them.

“Oh, good, you’re still here,” Molly said breathlessly as she entered the kitchen in her bathrobe. “I was afraid you’d changed your mind.”

Arthur turned from the stove to face her. “I’m sorry.” He grabbed her shoulders and softly planted a kiss on her forehead. “I just couldn’t – I tried staying in bed, but I would have fallen asleep.”

After a few seconds of bewilderment, understanding came to Molly. “Oh…yesterday was the eighteenth, wasn’t it? I am so sorry. It completely slipped my mind.”

“That’s okay. It’s not your burden to carry.”

As they ate breakfast, Molly kept glancing over at Arthur with increasing worry. Suddenly, she grabbed his face and felt his forehead with the back of her hand.

With a confused, crooked grin, Arthur asked, “W-What are you doing?”

Without responding, Molly proceeded to check his pulse while peering inside his shirt.

Arthur’s grin instantly turned into a frown. “What?” he asked much more seriously this time.

“You’ve lost all your color. How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I think. A bit nauseous maybe, but –“

Abruptly standing, Molly said, “I’m calling Alexander,” as she passed Arthur to go to the Floo.

“No – “ Arthur gently wrapped an arm around her waist. He stood and spun with her as she continued to walk past him. Stars danced before his eyes. He braced himself on a chair as a sudden light-headedness overcame him. Molly immediately rushed to his side.

Arthur shook his head and blinked several times. The stars were gone, but the light-headedness remained.

“Is he at home or is he at the hospital?” Molly asked.

“No, don’t bother him,” Arthur calmly commanded. “He said everything was alright yesterday. I’ve been fine all night. I even helped Gramps this morning. It’s probably because I haven’t slept, or from all the caffeine I had earlier.”

“Shouldn’t you be avoiding caffeine?”

“I know.”

“Why don’t you go lie down until you feel better? I’ll sit with you.”

Arthur easily gave in to his wife’s request. Once in bed with a cool rag on his forehead, it was only a few short minutes before sleep overtook him. He slept for most of the day, and Molly was right there by his side for ninety-nine percent of it.

That evening, Arthur woke relieved not to have had a nightmare and feeling much better. Perhaps, rest was all he needed. Molly must have been satisfied as well because she did not mention having Alexander check him over again.

After eating a hardy dinner, they took an early shower together.

“Oh!” Molly exclaimed while she was washing Arthur’s back for him. “I forgot to tell you. An owl came from Harry this afternoon. He picked Ginny up from the train station and assures me they are both staying with George. Between the two of them, they managed to convince her to come over to help decorate tomorrow!” she told him excitedly. “The whole family will be together again!” Her face suddenly fell. “Well, almost…”

Arthur turned around to face her. He brushed her cheek with the rough pad of his thumb. “Fred’s with us,” he whispered.

“But it won’t be the same.”

“There’s nothing we can do about it.” He shrugged. “Let’s just be glad we didn’t lose anyone else.”

Molly nodded then stood on her tiptoes and kissed her husband, water falling over them like rain. She had lost him for a while, but now he was back where he belonged.

Arthur suddenly broke the kiss, eyes wide. “Wait – So we’re telling the kids we’re back together tomorrow?”

“How else would we explain why you’re here?”

“I just thought – Well – It’s a bit soon to say anything, isn’t it?”

“I don’t see why not,” Molly said slowly. “Unless…you’re having second thoughts?”

“No, no, no,” Arthur assured. “I’m just a little…insecure still?” he said in the form of a question, unsure if he worded it correctly. “Not all the kids are going to react well. We might as well face that fact. And I don’t want to get their hopes up just for them to be crushed in a little while - I mean, I’m not planning on things going back to the way they were,” he hastily added, “but part of me is still afraid, because I know it can happen.”

“Arthur, Love, I am absolutely certain things will continue to get better. As long as you tell me if you are struggling - with anything - everything will be fine.”

Arthur smiled at how confident Molly was in their ability to rebuild their marriage. Not one ounce of doubt showed. Some of her confidence rubbed off on him.

“Okay.”

He glanced away and opened his mouth before closing it again. His second try, however, was more successful. “I should probably tell you, then, that I’ve not been sleeping well, at all, the past couple weeks. It sounds stupid, but I’m afraid of having that nightmare and having even more damage done to my heart.”

“That’s not stupid. We’ll find a way to get past that, _together_.”

The water had gradually been growing colder as they talked, so they had to finish quickly. As they dried off, they heard a voice holler up the stairs.

“Hello?” it called again. Arthur and Molly realized it was their daughter.

Excitement bubbled up inside of Arthur at being able to see his little girl again. Almost tripping in the process, he pulled on his pajama bottoms as he made his way to the bathroom door. Molly chuckled at how the hair on his head stuck out in all directions. He bounded down the stairs and almost crashed into Ginny at the bottom.

“Daddy!” Ginny squealed as he enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug that could rival Molly’s.

“I am so sorry,” he croaked into her hair. Holding the back of her head, he pulled away and looked into big, brown eyes so much like her mother’s. “I am so, so sorry.” He kissed her on the forehead before wrapping her in his arms again.

"Daddy, you don't need to apologize,” she mumbled into his bare shoulder.

Arthur stepped back. "I do."

"No,” Molly said from where she watched on the bottom step, holding Arthur’s shirt and bathrobe, “I think I should be the one apologizing this time. Arthur, I had no right to forbid you from seeing your kids - and I didn't think how it might hurt you as well, Ginny"

"Molly, no,” Arthur shook his head, “you had _every_ right. I was out of control. You did what you believed to be best.” He turned to his daughter again. “Ginny, don't be upset with your mum. She was only watching out for you."

"I couldn't care less about how she treated me. What about you?"

"What happened with me and your mother is between us. It is not your or any of your brothers' concern. We have agreed to put the past behind us and move forward."

Molly handed him his white nightshirt. He pulled it on over his head as Ginny asked, "So when Gran and Gramps said you were here, they meant you moved back in with her?"

"Yes,” her dad said, slipping into his threadbare bathrobe. “And I would hope you'd be happy for us."

With a slight frown, Ginny looked between her parents.

"Things are a lot better now," Arthur said then looked over at Molly.

"They are," she agreed with a smile.

Ginny crossed her arms, but made no indication of speaking.

"I guess I'll leave you two to catch up then," Molly said before going into the kitchen, not bothering to hide how hurt she was.

Arthur gave Ginny a stern look and nodded toward Molly.

"No,” Ginny said flatly.

"Why won't you talk to her?"

"How can you forgive her?"

"...I love her - and I brought a lot on myself. Your mum doesn't deserve to be treated this way."

Deflating, Ginny admitted, "I guess I have been a bit of a bitch."

“She apologized and she didn’t even need to. Everything she did was to protect you.”

“Not everything. Conner –“

“- is none of your concern,” Arthur interrupted fiercely. Neither he nor Molly had brought up that subject. And, so, he continued to allow himself to live in ignorance. He took a deep breath. “Just talk to her. Please? This is hurting her more than when Percy left.”

With no further complaint, Ginny went into the kitchen.

“Mum?”

“Yes?” Molly said indifferently, setting the kettle on the stove.

Ginny hesitated. “I may have let my temper and stubbornness get the better of me.”

“Oh?”

With a small shrug, Ginny said, “Yeah.”

Well, it wasn’t an apology, but it was a step in the right direction at least.

Mother and daughter stood in uncomfortable silence, both wishing Arthur would come in and ease the tension. After what felt like an eternity, Ginny said, “So have the guys driven you mad yet?” She gave a small smirk.

“Between you and me, _all the time_ ,” Molly answered dramatically. On a more serious note, she said, “No, they’ve…they’ve been fine. George and Percy have been a bit distant, but they come around.” She went quiet as she began placing teabags in mugs.

“They’re probably just busy,” Ginny suggested quietly.

“That must be it,” Molly said, feigning a smile. She knew it wasn’t because they were busy and she was sure Ginny knew that as well.

Leo the orange kitten came to their rescue. He swatted at Ginny’s ankle, trying to get her attention. She picked him up. The conversation quickly turned to the kitten. When asked where she got him, Molly vaguely answered that he was a birthday present.

The two were sitting on the floor giggling over the kitten when Arthur entered, red hair neatly brushed. “Sounds like my two girls are at least tolerating each other,” he said as he took a seat at the table.

“Look, Mum got a kitten!”

He narrowed his eyes at the fur ball as it stopped playing with the ball of yarn and trotted over to him. Leo looked up at him expectantly. “I know,” he said, carefully pushing the kitten away with his foot.

Picking up on her husband’s dislike of Leo, Molly asked, “He’s not going to be a problem, is he?”

As Arthur pulled his foot back, Leo playfully pounced on it. “Of course not,” he answered his wife. “I mean, why would he? He’s just a cat.”

“Right,” Molly said while Ginny called Leo, who looked at her, before jingling a ball and rolling it across the floor. Having lost interest in the toys and the women fawning over him, he turned back to Arthur and, much to Arthur’s annoyance, jumped up into his lap. “He hasn’t done anything.” Arthur didn’t have to know Conner was the one who gave her the kitten. That would only make Leo a problem, which would most likely mean she would have to give him up and Molly did not want that; she had grown quite attached to the little guy.

“Down. Get down,” Arthur ordered the cat, but he only made himself more comfortable, rolling over onto his back with his head hanging upside down between Arthur’s knees. Arthur huffed. Well, he would have to make himself like the cat. It apparently already liked him.

Molly and Ginny moved to the table, also.

“So you went to Gran and Gramps’s?” Arthur asked Ginny.

“Yeah.”

“And where do Harry and George think you are?”

“At Gran and Gramps’s”

The rest of the evening went by rather quickly. Ginny and Arthur had a lot to catch up on. Noticing the conversation was mainly between him and his daughter, Arthur did his best to bring Molly into the conversation as much as possible.

Eventually, Ginny asked if she and Harry could stay at the Burrow during Christmas break. After both parents happily agreed that it would be wonderful for her to come home starting the next night, Ginny went back to George’s flat.

**oOoOo**

As he stared out of their bedroom window, Arthur said, “Well, one down, si–“ he forced a cough, “five to go.”

“I don’t think Bill, Percy, or George will be much of a problem. Charlie and Ron on the other hand…” Molly trailed off.

Arthur made a noncommittal noise. He wasn’t sure he agreed with his wife. Percy had been livid after the fiasco at his wedding and had been treating him rather coldly at the Ministry – That was why Arthur made sure to see Kingsley when Percy wasn’t there. And, George, well he seemed more disappointed than angry, but Arthur hadn’t heard from him since the wedding. The next day would not be easy at all.

Molly slid her hands down his arms and let them rest in his hands, gaining his full attention. “Everything will work out. It will take time, but it will be okay.”

Arthur sighed. “It won’t be the same, though. The kids will never look at me the way they used to. They saw a side of me that _I_ didn’t even know existed.”

“I wouldn’t be too worried about that.” She gave his hands a squeeze. “I’m more concerned with how they’ll take it when we tell them about your health issues tomorrow.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “I’m not telling them tomorrow.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t you think that’s a lot to dump on them in one day? And I don’t want to tell them for the same reason I didn’t want to tell you. I want them to accept me for the right reasons. And I don’t want them to think this –“ he motioned between them, “ _us_ is because of that – unless…it is?”

“You know that’s not the reason,” Molly reassured. “But you’ll have to tell the kids eventually, and if they find out you’ve been keeping this from them, do you really think that will be good for your relationship?”

Arthur hesitated in frustration. “Just let me get through tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Molly conceded. “But you’re not alone in this. You have me.” She raised up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

He grinned at her before placing a kiss atop her head.

**oOoOo**

First thing next morning, George, Ginny, and Harry were the first three to arrive at the Burrow. The couple greeted Arthur while George greeted Molly before swapping. George stopped short, though. He knew Arthur would be there, Ginny having had told him, but he wasn’t quite prepared to see his father.

"George,” Arthur said softly.

"Dad…" George said warily.

Arthur gave his middle son a small, nervous smile.

"I almost wrote you a few times,” George admitted. “I actually expected you to write me, making a bunch of excuses."

Arthur looked his son in the eye. "I'm done making excuses."

The other three watched with apprehension as father and son stared wordlessly at each other, George being unsure of his feelings about this new direction his dad had gone in and Arthur afraid to make a move and be rejected.

"You...look better,” George finally said.

"I feel better,” Arthur replied. He scratched the back of his neck and looked toward the ceiling. “I was about to go up to the attic and start bringing down decorations..."

George opened and closed his mouth before offering to help. Ginny and Harry went with them, leaving Molly alone to cook breakfast.

Within the next ten minutes, Bill, Fleur, Ron, Hermione, and Charlie arrived. After Molly refused any help from the girls, all five sat and talked around the kitchen table.

Charlie suddenly groaned. "You know what I just realized?” he asked grumpily. “We have to bring down all those boxes.”

"Stop your whining. It's being taken care of as we speak,” Molly informed.

Charlie’s face lit up. "Sweet! Is Conner here? I'll give him a hand,” he said as he hopped up from the table and headed toward the swinging door.

Molly grabbed his arm as he passed her. "No, Conner is not here. And let's not mention him today,” she said as she looked around at her other children.

“Is everything alright between you two?” Charlie asked with concern. “You seemed to be getting on really well - And what else would you be doing since you’ve cancelled any plans you’ve had with any of us for the past two weeks?”

“And you’ve had a lot more privacy since I moved out,” Ron chimed in with a wink.

Molly’s face turned scarlet. She huffed while placing her hands on her hips. “You better not be implying what I think you’re implying.” She pointed between Charlie and Ron, who ducked their heads in embarrassment. “I am married to your father, and you should know I would _never_ do something like that,” she said in a deadly tone.

“No one’s heard from him in months,” Ron remarked.

“And I don’t know why you’re sticking around for him after the way he’s treated all of us, _especially_ you,” Charlie added.

“It’s none of our business,” Bill reminded his brothers as Percy and Audrey came in the back door.

“I love him,” Molly said determinedly. “And everyone deserves a second chance.”

“Second chance?” Charlie blurted. “We passed that a long time ago.”

Bill cleared his throat. “Mum, you didn’t bring all those boxes down yourself, did you?” he asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“No, Dear.” She turned around to the stove and started removing pans from the eyes.

“Who did, then?”

Before Molly could answer, Ginny, Harry, George, and Arthur came back into the kitchen laughing. The other Weasley children’s eyes were glued to Arthur, who abruptly stopped.

“Er – You haven’t told them yet, have you?” he asked Molly.

“I was just getting to that.”

Molly crossed the room and took hold of Arthur’s hand. “I’ve thought long and hard about this – We both have – And we’ve had some serious, deep discussion before making any big decisions _”

“You’re splitting up,” Ron said hopefully at the same time Bill evenly asked, “You’re getting back together?”

“We’ve already gotten back together,” Molly replied. “Look, I know not all of you will approve, but as your parents, we don’t need your approval, and I hope you all will take a more mature stance moving forward. If your dad and I can put the past behind us, so can you.”

“He can’t go a day without drinking,” Percy said hoarsely, his eyes unmoving from his father.

“Yeah, Mum, we’ve been here before,” Charlie said.

“You’re dad has gotten help.”

Ron scoffed. “You _think_ he’s gotten help.”

“I have,” Arthur spoke up, “and if you don’t believe me, Kingsley wouldn’t have let me keep my job if I hadn’t.”

“You only got help to save your job,” Charlie calmly accused.

“No, I saw how badly it was damaging my life, and how much I was hurting all of you…and that I couldn’t control it anymore. I don’t want to live like that.

“I don’t know what else to say,” Arthur continued after several seconds of silence, “because I’ve said it all before. Nothing I can say would even matter because it lost meaning a long time ago. So, instead, I’m going to let my actions and my behavior speak for themselves.”

“So what? We’re supposed to forgive you just like that? Like the past seven months didn’t even happen?” Ron asked.

“No, I’m not going to ask for your forgiveness – I don’t deserve it – but I do hope you can forgive me, eventually.”

“How do we know in a couple weeks, after you’ve gotten back into our good graces, that you won’t go back to drinking?” Charlie asked.

Arthur sighed. “You don’t,” he said with a shrug, “but I’m nine weeks sober, to the day. I haven’t gone that long without a drink in…” he thought briefly before realizing he couldn’t recall the last time he had even gone a month without a drink, “I don’t know how long. Years, maybe? I think that really says something.”

“I think it does, too,” Molly said.

**oOoOo**

“I give it ‘til New Year’s,” Charlie mumbled as he and Ron worked on untangling lights thirty minutes later.

“I only give it ‘til Christmas,” Ron wagered.

“Mum’s deluding herself. I bet she’s only doing this because it’s the holidays.”

“And their anniversary is coming up, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Throughout the day, Molly had to discretely ask Charlie, Ron, and Percy to help their dad with various tasks while Bill, George, and Ginny didn’t even have to be asked. Her three stubborn sons, however, would argue with her until she asked them to do it for her if nothing else. Then, they would begrudgingly assist their dad. This did not go unnoticed by Arthur, but he was glad they were at least talking to him now.

“Percy, treating me like a colleague will not work here,” Arthur told the bespectacled Weasley while he was helping him set the tree up. “We are at home.”

Percy dropped the tree branches he had been holding back into the box and said, “Alright, Father, what do you want?”

“I want you to talk to me…Son,” Arthur ventured. “I want us to get things out into the open so we can go back to how we were. We were getting along so well.”

Percy ran a hand over his face. “You _ruined_ mine and Audrey’s wedding reception, Dad. It was _beyond_ embarrassing.”

Well, that was easier than Arthur expected.

“I know, and –“ Arthur stopped short. He gestured for Percy to follow him. After getting Audrey from where she was helping Molly and Ginny put up garland on the mantel, he took the couple into the empty kitchen. He sat across from them at the table.

“Audrey, Percy, I am extremely sorry for the pain and humiliation I caused at your wedding,’ Arthur apologized to his son and daughter-in-law both for the first time for that incident. “If I could go back and leave after the ceremony, I would. I know it was hard for you, Son, so, Audrey, I can’t begin to imagine how terrible it must have been for you. That is not the welcome you should have received upon marrying into this family. This family is much better than I am…Look, I can’t undo what I did, but I hope there is some way I can mend my relationships with each of you.”

“Thank you, Arthur,” Audrey said. “That means a lot. I don’t think it should be too difficult to get back on good terms.” She gave her father-in-law a small smile.

Arthur and Audrey looked to Percy who still hadn’t said anything.

“Dad, that’s all I wanted,” Percy finally said. “For you to apologize to Audrey – and not just in some shame-faced announcement, but to tell her face-to-face.”

“I’m sorry it took so long,” Arthur said.

All three of them stood. Arthur hugged his son and daughter-in-law in turn before they all rejoined the others.

After the tree was assembled, Arthur, Charlie, Percy, and Ron went outside to hang Christmas lights on the house. They spread out. Each of them levitated part of the strand and let it rest on a small nail in the roof. They continued this with the higher levels and windows as well.

They were hanging one of the last strands of lights when Arthur’s end began to droop. Charlie, who was nearest to his dad, glanced over at him. Arthur swayed unsteadily. Charlie dropped his wand as he rushed over and caught Arthur before he could hit the ground. Ron picked up Charlie’s wand as he and Percy stopped what they were doing and went over to their brother and dad.

Percy opened the door so Charlie and Ron could carry Arthur inside.

“What happened?” Molly asked in alarm, moving boxes and decorations off of the couch. Charlie and Ron set Arthur down on it.

“He passed out,” Charlie said, “without warning.”

“Someone fetch a cold rag,” Molly commanded.

She sat on the edge of the couch next to Arthur. As his cheeks warmed and the color brought on by the cold left, it revealed that he was deathly pale.

Ron came back with a damp rag and handed it to his mum.

“Why don’t you all go and make yourselves some sandwiches,” she told her kids as she patted Arthur’s forehead with the cool, damp rag. They all disappeared into the kitchen.

It wasn’t long before Arthur came to.

He took in his surroundings. “What happened?” he asked in a daze.

“You fainted.”

Arthur carefully sat up. Leo jumped out of the depths of an empty box and onto Arthur’s lap, but Arthur left him alone. He didn’t feel much like fighting with the kitten at the moment.

“Have you not been feeling well today either?” Molly asked with deep concern.

“I felt fine until a couple hours ago.”

“You need to go back and see Alexander tomorrow.”

“He said nothing has changed,” Arthur argued weakly. “Look, it’s three o’clock. I probably just need something to eat.”

Molly was not convinced that was the reason, but she left it at that. If Arthur had another episode like that, she would take him to Alexander whether he liked it or not.

They sat in silence. Molly watched Arthur, who had regained his color, closely. Finally, he insisted, “I’m feeling better – _really_.”

Molly sighed. “I was thinking…You should tell the kids today.”

Arthur’s eyebrows knit together. He opened his mouth, but Molly interrupted.

“Listen, all of the kids seem like they are at least willing to give you another chance. So, you owe it to your kids to be honest with them.”

“Molly, I don’t know. We don’t know anything yet. Why worry them?”

“It wouldn’t be worrying them. By telling them, they’ll know what’s going on. And if something happens while you’re with them, they won’t be frightened. They’ll know what’s causing it, whether it be light-headedness, fainting, chest pains…”

Arthur had to admit she had a point. The kids all seemed to be willing to give him another chance. Even Charlie and Ron had let their guard down around him. Well, it seemed like it took both Molly and Hermione talking to Ron to get him to loosen up a bit, but, still, it was something. And he hadn’t thought about how much worse it might be for the kids if something happened and they didn’t have a clue as to what was going on.

“It’s up to you, Arthur, but I really think you ought to tell the kids.”

“Tell us what?” George asked from where he froze upon entering the sitting room.

Arthur repositioned himself on the couch to face him. “George…it’s noth-“

“No,” George interrupted softly, “don’t tell me it’s nothing. I’m not a child anymore. I can tell when something is wrong.”

“I know. Whatever you heard, please don’t tell the others. I’ll tell you all after dinner. But, honestly, you don’t need to worry.”

“Okay,” George whispered. He started to go back into the kitchen, but turned around suddenly. “Oh – Um – What kind of sandwiches did you want?” he asked.

“Ham.”

“The same.”

Arthur insisted he could eat at the table, so he and Molly joined the kids in the kitchen. Everything returned to normal rather quickly, except for George, who became quite reserved for the remainder of the day. This made Arthur have second thoughts about telling them about the curse, but he didn’t really have a choice anymore.

Molly disappeared into the kitchen to cook dinner as the rest of the family put finishing touches around the house. The Christmas tree twinkled with golden lights while various homemade decorations hung from its branches. Garland hung on the mantel and bannisters. A little Christmas village sat on the mantelpiece as well. The rest of the lights and decorations were put up outside, too.

When everyone finished eating dinner, Arthur cleared his throat to gain their attention.

“There is one more thing you all need to know,” he said. “And I want to make it clear that this has had no bearing on your mum and I getting back together – Not long ago, I had to go to St. Mungo’s.”

“Yeah, we know. Your drinking almost killed you,” Charlie said.

Arthur bit his lip. “This was more recent than that.” He proceeded to tell them what the Healers discovered while he was at the hospital – about the curse and how nothing was known about it, but that it was nothing to worry about. Molly held his hand underneath the table the entire time.

“So you’ve been a jerk because you’re cursed?” Ron asked.

“No, I’ve managed that on my own.”

Bill leaned forward on the table. “Dad, what do you mean ‘it’s nothing to worry about?’” he asked. “This is Voldemort we’re talking about – the most powerful dark wizard to ever live. Just because nothing has happened yet, doesn’t mean it won’t.”

“I’ve lived with this for three years and never knew about it. If something were to happen, it would have happened by now,” Arthur shrugged off his kids’ concern.

“But what if something does happen?” Ginny asked. “I mean, it would be odd for Voldemort to create a complex curse like this and not use it.”

“Yeah, some cursed objects have a delayed reaction. It lulls you into a false sense of security before having detrimental effects. Creatures could be the same way,” Bill said.

“I’ll be going to the Healer every other month for them to monitor and study it. My next appointment is in February,” Arthur informed. “We will keep you updated as we learn more. And if it makes you feel any better, I have the best Healer in the Cyprian Youdle Ward.”

“Uncle Alex?” Bill asked, having known most Healers specializing in curses at St. Mungo’s since he was a curse-breaker.

Arthur nodded.

“But he’s not the Healer-in-Charge,” Percy stated.

“Just because he’s not the Healer-in-Charge doesn’t mean he is not the best,” Arthur said. “Oh, and the only people who know about this are Gran and Gramps, your Uncle Alex, and, now, everyone at his table, and I’d like it to stay that way.”

Everyone agreed it would stay between them.

After a bit more discussion, everyone retired to the sitting room to enjoy the decorations and each other’s company.

Arthur went to help Molly with the hot cocoa a while later. While he heated the milk, she locked the door and cast a Silencing Charm. She came up behind him and rubbed his shoulders. “Are you still feeling the way you did when we talked a couple months ago?” she asked.

Arthur turned around to face her. He took her hands in his and shook his head. “No, I feel better. Not normal, but better.”

“Then how can you be so calm about this? How are you okay with this?”

“I’m not,” he croaked. “This scares the hell out of me. But if we don’t act like this is serious, then the kids won’t either.”

“But it _is_ serious.”

“I know, but the kids have been through enough. They don’t need to worry about this right now,” he said. “We will let them know as we find out more, but, for now, let’s give them some time to be carefree.”

Molly leaned into her husband and wrapped her arms around him. He held her as well. “They have been through a lot, haven’t they?” she asked.

Arthur hummed in agreement.

“And there really isn’t a reason to be worried, is there?”

Arthur shook his head.

Molly looked up into his blue eyes. “Just continue to be completely honest with me?”

“Of course,” he said before kissing her on the lips.

They finished making the hot cocoas and took them to the family in the sitting room.

Harry and Ron played wizard’s chess while Hermione watched. Ginny, George, Bill, Charlie, Fleur, and Audrey sat on the floor around the coffee table playing cards. Percy sat behind Audrey on the couch. Arthur and Molly took up residence on the loveseat near the fire. The wireless played Christmas songs in the background.

**oOoOo**

It was nearly midnight when the kids left, but they didn’t go home. Instead, they popped into a pub in Diagon Alley.

All ten of them crowded around two tables that they pushed together, each with a pint in front of them.

“Maybe things are different this time,” Charlie mused, taking a sip from his Butterbeer. “Maybe Dad has finally gotten serious.”

“I still don’t trust him,” Ron said.

“I didn’t say I trusted him - Just that he’s trying.”

“I haven’t seen Mum this happy in a long time. Not even with Conner,” Bill commented.

“For her sake, let’s hope he’s being genuine this time,” Percy said.

“I think he is,” Ginny asserted.

“You also stood by him when he was a complete menace,” Ron calmly pointed out.

“From what Gran and Gramps told me, Dad has really been working on himself.”

Throughout the night, George had been unusually quiet. It had slipped everyone’s notice with everything else that was going on. Charlie finally picked up on his brother’s odd behavior.

“George, you’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” Charlie said. “Y’alright?”

“Yeah,” George sighed, drawing patterns in the frost on his glass.

“Somethin’ you wanna talk about?”

Everyone eyed George closely as they waited for him to respond.

“It just seems like it’s one thing after another with our family,” he finally said. “Ginny and that diary - Ron _countless_ times – the blow out with Percy – Dad being attacked by that snake – Bill was attacked by Greyback – and then Fred and the past several months…” he trailed off. “Now this?”

Harry’s face turned redder than the Weasleys’ hair while Ginny crossed her arms and sank into her chair. Ron unconsciously rubbed at his scarred forearms. Percy ducked his head. Bill, however, kept his cool.

“George, none of that is anyone’s fault,” Bill said quietly.

George looked up from his glass for the first time and saw the state some of the others were in. “That’s not what I meant. I know it’s not anyone’s fault. I’m sorry. I didn’t - I just thought, once the war was over, things would get easier.”

“That’s just life right now,” Bill said. “It’s going to take time, but things _will_ get better eventually.”

“Yeah, ya know?” Charlie said. “And, look, none of us expected Dad to drop that Dungbomb on us tonight.”

Having recovered from his embarrassment, Percy jumped in, “Dad didn’t seem too worried about it either.”

“After he was attacked and was bleeding continuously, he didn’t seem worried,” George said. “Just because he doesn’t seem worried doesn’t mean it’s not serious.”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Charlie said. “We just have to trust Uncle Alex.”

“And fretting over it won’t help,” Percy said.

“If you need to, I’m sure Dad would be willing to talk to you about it,” Bill added.

“Yeah – No – Maybe you guys are right. It’s nothing to worry about right now.”

After George’s concession, the conversation relaxed, but remained focused on their parents. They stayed for another pint or two before Ginny and Harry headed back to the Burrow while Rona and Hermione went to Grimmauld Place. The four older siblings walked out together not long after.

“George!” a dark-haired witch exclaimed before throwing her arms around the redhead.

When she stepped back, George got a better look at who it was. His face lit up. “Angelina!”

“Merlin, I haven’t seen you in months.”

“Yeah. What have you been up to?”

She ran her fingers through her long hair before throwing it over her shoulder. “Travelling a lot with Quidditch. I think this is going to be my last season, actually. I know it hasn’t been that long, but I’m ready to come back home and stay. I just don’t know what I’m going to do to make money.”

“I could always use some help at the joke shop.”

“That’s right! I’ve been seeing your ads in the _Prophet_. So, how is that going?”

George shrugged. “It’s alright. It’s not the same without Fred, but I still enjoy it.” He gestured to the pub he’d just exited and asked, “Do you want to go in where it’s warmer?”

She smiled at him. “That would be nice.”

Bill winked at George as he held the door open for Angelina.


	38. A Christmas Surprise

On Christmas morning, Molly awoke next to Arthur. She snuggled closer to him beneath the covers after glancing over to find him fast asleep. She could stay in bed with him all day. In fact, she had the entire first half of the week; with Arthur off work for the holidays and Ginny and Harry old enough to take care of themselves, they had all the time in the world.

But Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were different. They had to get out of bed to celebrate with their family and a few close friends. Neither of them had anything against that, not at all. They both would have just liked it if they had a little more time to themselves, though.

As Molly lay next to her husband, she briefly thought about waking him, but decided not to since he’d been having so much trouble sleeping lately. Instead, she slowly got out of bed, careful not to disturb him, and began getting ready for the day. The frigid air stole any remnant of drowsiness she still felt.

“Mollywobbles,” Arthur mumbled from under a pile of blankets as she was about to go downstairs.

“Oh, Arthur, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” she whispered.

He shook his head. “Come back to bed.”

She braced herself on the mattress as she leaned across the bed to give him a good morning kiss “We just spent three days in bed -“

“Not yesterday.”

“And I have a lot –“

Molly squealed as Arthur reached out from beneath the covers and pulled her down onto the bed before engulfing them both with the mountain of blankets. He wrapped himself around her.

“I have to make breakfast. It won’t be too long before the kids wake up,” she protested. George and Charlie stayed in their old bedrooms the night before since they lived alone.

“Most of our kids know how to cook.”

“Bill and Fleur and Percy and Audrey are spending the morning at their own homes, and Ron is spending it with the Grangers.”

“Charlie and Ginny can cook.”

“And we’ll have guests in a few hours – Great Aunt Muriel…and Kingsley…and Minerva…and Hagrid…and Andromeda and Teddy.”

He smirked. “All I’m hearing is that we have a few hours, then.”

“No, I really need to get up.” She squirmed in his arms.

Arthur released her and playfully pouted. Molly fought with the blankets, but couldn’t find an opening.

Arthur smirked again and waggled his eyebrows. “Can’t get up if you can’t find your way out.”

“Arthur, what did you do? Put a never-ending blanket spell on these?” she huffed, still fighting with the blankets.

“That, my dear, was all you.”

“Seriously, Arthur…”

“Seriously,” Arthur chuckled, “it’s because you insist on sleeping with fifty blankets.”

“Five,” she corrected. She crossed her arms and huffed as she gave up.

“Fifty…Five,” Arthur said as he acted like he was weighing them in each hand before shrugging. He smiled. “Merry Christmas, Mollywobbles,” he murmured.

“Merry Christmas, Arthur.”

They pecked each other on the lips.

“How about I cook breakfast this morning while you sit in front of the fire sipping a big cup of coffee?” Arthur suggested.

“You don’t have –“

“I want to,” he said sincerely.

“Well, okay, then.”

Arthur fought with the blankets for a moment before finally finding the edge and throwing the blankets off of them.

Molly went to the dresser mirror to straighten up. “My hair is a complete mess!” she exclaimed.

Arthur came up behind her with a bedhead of his own and tilted his head. His necklace glinted in the reflection. “Don’t bother it. It reminds me of someone famous – well, semi-famous anyway.”

“Who?” Molly asked, genuinely intrigued.

Arthur smirked. “Me.”

“The only thing you’re famous for is driving me mad,” she joked.

“You have the hair for it,” he teased before walking away. He narrowly dodged her hand as she playfully swatted at his bottom. He stopped and wiggled it at her. This time, Molly did not miss. “Ow!” he exclaimed, rubbing his rear as he went into the bathroom.

“That’s right. You better go get ready,” Molly called as she began to fix her hair again.

Downstairs not much later, Arthur built a fire and brought Molly a cup of coffee. Instead of going back into the kitchen to start breakfast, he ran upstairs. He came up behind Molly on the couch when he returned.

Molly turned her head around. "What are you doing?” she asked, “You’re supposed to be making breakfast.”

"I know, I know. There's something I want to give you before the kids come down,” he said before kissing her on the side of the neck.

A soft moan escaped her lips. "As much as I'd love to, we don't have time."

"That's not what I meant, but we know who's on Santa's naughty list," he growled, nipping her ear and causing color to rise in her cheeks.

Molly cleared her throat. "Well, what is it then?"

"Well, it's not a Christmas present. It's for our anniversary."

"Our anniversary is still a few days away. Can it not wait?"

"No."

Arthur pulled out an envelope from his back pocket and handed it to her. Molly carefully opened it, anticipation bubbling up inside of her. If it couldn’t wait until their anniversary it had to be something spectacular.

When she took out what was inside, she discovered it was a photograph. Clear, blue water calmly rolled onto a white sand beach before retreating into the ocean. Palm trees swayed in the breeze as they provided shade for a quaint villa with a straw roof.

Her heart sank further the longer she looked at it. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but a photograph was definitely not it. In their thirty years of marriage, this had to be the most disappointing gift Arthur had ever given her.

"Oh! What a beautiful picture,” she tried to say enthusiastically. "Is this the Maldives?"

Arthur walked around the couch to sit next to her. He nodded.

"I'd still love to go there one day," she mumbled longingly, still staring at the photograph.

"The photograph isn't your gift,” Arthur said. “And it's more of something for the both of us." 

"We're not going on a trip, are we?" she asked, the corners of her lips quirking upward.

Arthur raised an eyebrow before picking up an artificial rose from behind the couch and handing it to her.

"Arthur..."

"We leave at nine tomorrow morning and get back just in time for the New Year’s Eve party."

“I have always wanted to go to the Maldives!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him.

“I know,” Arthur chuckled, straightening back up. “With this new job, we can finally afford it.”

Suddenly, Molly’s face fell as something dawned on her. "But we're hosting the New Year’s Eve party. We won't have any time to get ready for it."

"I talked to the kids. They'll get the house in order for the party."

“They’re okay with that?”

“Most of them said they’d be happy to do it.”

“That’s nice of them,” Molly said, beaming at the tropical picture.

Arthur kissed her on the cheek before hopping up. He had just entered the kitchen when he poked his head back into the sitting room and said, "Don't lose that. It's our portkey,” in reference to the rose. A huge smile was plastered on Molly’s face as she twirled the rose between her fingers and sipped her coffee in front of the crackling fire.

After a while, Molly heard movement upstairs. It was a sound she hadn’t heard in a long time and missed dearly. Sure, the few years all her children were at school or had moved out on their own, there was plenty of silence around the house. But that silence was not definite. The kids would come home from school for the holidays and the noise would return with them. The silence that covered the Burrow in recent months was very different – It was more permanent. None of her children would live in the Burrow again, and, before long, they would not even spend the night because they would have families of their own.

She relished the rustling, sleepy murmurs, creaking floorboards, and running water until she dragged herself to the kitchen. A few pesky anxieties had slowly encroached upon her reminiscence that she needed to quell before the kids came downstairs.

“How’s breakfast coming along?” she asked her husband.

“It’s almost done.”

“The turkey?”

“In the oven.”

“Er – Arthur?” Molly asked timidly.

Arthur set down the spatula and turned around to fully face his wife.

“This trip – It’s a dream, but…I have some concerns.”

Arthur leaned against the counter, crossed his arms, and cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re supposed to go back to work next week, and being the head of a department brings a lot of responsibility. Maybe now is not the best time.“

“Oh, that?” Arthur shrugged off her concern. “It’s all worked out. I’ve got plenty of vacation time, and Perkins will take over until I get back.”

“Oh. That’s…That’s good,” Molly said unconvincingly. She bit her lip.

Stepping forward and uncrossing his arms, Arthur asked, “Molly, what’s really bothering you?”

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to leave for a week? Kingsley is still requiring you to go to two meetings a week.”

“I’ve worked it out with Kingsley. He’s okay with it if I miss a couple meetings.”

“But are _you_ going to be okay?” Molly asked. “The meetings you go to really seem to help, and you’ve only been to one this week. By the time we get back, you would have gone nearly two weeks without going to one.”

“Ah, I see,” Arthur said, understanding finally dawning on him. “Look, it’s gotten a lot easier.” He placed his hands on either side of her face and assured, “There’s nothing to worry about,” before kissing her forehead.

“Just promise you’ll tell me if it starts bothering you?”

Arthur looked her in the eye. “I promise,” he sincerely said. “And we’ll be together the whole time anyway, so you’ll always have an eye on me.” He gave a small smirk.

Molly stood on her tiptoes and kissed him soundly on the lips.

George slipped in unnoticed. “Morning,” he said, giving his mum a start. Arthur was unperturbed.

“George!” Molly exclaimed.

George put his hands up in defense. “I’m not the one snogging in the kitchen.”

“We were _not_ snogging.”

“Are Charlie, Ginny, and Harry up yet, George?” Arthur intervened.

“They’re on their way down.”

The present family members ate breakfast in a rather solemn silence. Missing half of the family cast an odd feeling over the morning. They could fool themselves into believing Fred was spending Christmas elsewhere like Bill, Percy, and Ron until the three couples arrived. Then, they had to face the real reason for their beloved son and brother’s absence. George was especially quiet throughout the day.

The atmosphere lightened when they emptied their stockings and exchanged gifts, but the phantom of Fred and others who had been lost loomed in the back of everyone’s minds. This Christmas was bittersweet, indeed.

After all gifts had been opened and everyone put on their new Weasley jumper, George hopped up and pulled out one last round of packages.

“Alright, the other gifts I gave you were more useful and something I thought you’d all enjoy, but I’ve recently come out with a new line of toys that I hope you all find amusing,” he announced as he tossed neatly wrapped packages to everyone.

Arthur and Molly watched the kids open theirs first. They each received an action figure of themselves as well as one of a Death Eater; for some, it was a nameless villain, and for others, it was one which held some significance. Bill got Greyback; Percy, Pius Thicknesse; Harry, Voldemort; Ginny, Tom Riddle; Hermione, Bellatrix; and Ron, Draco Malfoy.

Arthur’s chest tightened as he began to see a trend and remembered the toy snake his great-nephews had been playing with weeks before. He knew it was silly to be afraid of a toy – Alexander had even confirmed it had no physical impact on him - but he couldn’t help it.

“They’re animated, too, so you can have them duel,” George explained. “And, of course, the bad guys always lose.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Percy’s mouth when George told him how Pius Thicknesse sprouted sea urchin spikes at the end of the duel. Ron guffawed when George hinted that Draco would be turned into a ferret. Bill, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione did appear to find the latter half of their gifts amusing, but George did not seem to notice, too busy pointing out the dragon sidekick that came with Charlie’s action figure.

Eventually, George looked at his parents expectantly. “Mum? Dad?”

Molly unwrapped her gift to find herself and Bellatrix, but Arthur stopped after noticing he had an extra box containing the sword of Gryffindor. His heartrate quickened.

“Who – or what – did you get me, George?” Arthur asked quietly.

“There’s only one way to find that out, isn’t there?” George quipped.

“Or you can just tell me,” Arthur retorted brusquely. The package in his hands began to shake ever so slightly. Molly laid a placating hand on his forearm.

“I-It’s Nagini,” George stuttered.

“What would make you think I wanted that?” Arthur exploded. “What were you thinking? _Were_ you even thinking?”

George’s face and ear quickly became as red as a tomato. “I-I-I just thought you’d get a kick out of it. Y’know,” he scratched the back of his neck and shrunk back, “getting to slice its head off.” Hesitantly, he looked over at his siblings. “I mean, you guys like them, right?”

Molly didn’t understand what George had been thinking either. He had always been sensitive to other people’s feelings. A gift like this didn’t seem like him at all.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” Bill said. “But it is a bit much for some of us.”

Arthur dropped the gift on the floor before stalking off to the kitchen. Molly stood, also.

“He doesn’t show it around you kids, but the snake attack deeply affected your dad, and the new information that has recently come to light hasn’t helped any,” she explained.

George bolted.

Molly glanced from the kitchen door to the stairs where George disappeared and back. She couldn’t choose between her husband and her son. Arthur was a grown man, but he did have – and still had - great difficulty because of the snake attack. An event as traumatic as that was damaging on many levels and would take years to get past if that was even possible. On the other hand, George was still in an extremely delicate place and was trying to get back to his old jokester ways. This day, she was sure, was hardest on him.

Charlie stood. “I’ll handle George, Mum,” he said. “You take care of Dad.”

Molly gave her second oldest son an appreciative smile before going into the kitchen where she found Arthur pacing back and forth. When he noticed her standing just inside the doorway, he came to an abrupt halt.

“How’s George?” he asked breathlessly. “I didn’t mean to go off like that. I know it was all in good fun, but –“

“Shh.” Molly placed her hand on his cheek, and brown eyes met blue. “Charlie is talking to George. How are you? What made you react that way?”

“I don’t know.” Arthur shrugged. “I was fine until I saw what everyone was getting. Then I got anxious, but that was all. I don’t know what made me blow up like that. It just came out of nowhere.”

“Did you have another panic attack?”

“No.”

“Your chest?”

“Fine.”

“How are you?” Molly repeated her first question.

Arthur sat down heavily in a chair and rubbed his face. “I’ve reconsidered my decision not to go to that meeting today.”

Molly pulled a chair out next to him. She stroked his hair.

“Do you need someone to go with you?” she asked.

“No,” Arthur said, his eyes unmoving from the oven where the turkey was slowly cooking. “It’s not for a few more hours. I should be better by then.”

“What will you do until then?”

“Distract myself. Focus on something else.” His eyes flicked to the corner cabinet where they used to keep the Firewhisky and wine before he looked at Molly out of the corner of his eye and smirked. “Just don’t let me sneak out of the house before then,” he tried to joke, but Molly didn’t even smile.

She continued to soothingly run her fingers through his hair. After a few minutes, her hand came to rest on the back of his head. “It’s okay if we need to wait for a better time to go on our trip,” she assured softly. “You’re sobriety is more important than some trip.”

“We don’t have to do that. I can’t put my life on hold because of this.” He looked her in the eye. “But, I will tell you if I start having problems.”

Molly frowned.

“Come on. We’ll get down there, and we’ll be having such a good time that none of this will even cross your mind,” Arthur said. He shifted in his seat so his body was facing hers. Resting his elbows on his knees, he took her hands in his. “White beaches…crystal clear water…the warm, salty air…This is a place you’ve wanted to visit your entire life. Thirty years of it, you’ve spent putting up with me.” He gave her his goofy, lopsided grin before becoming serious again. “This last one was definitely the toughest, but we made it.” He gently squeezed her hands. “You deserve this.”

Molly’s cheeks grew pink and a small smile peaked out. “If you’re sure…”

“Positive,” Arthur replied. “You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

He kissed her atop the head as he stood. “I need to talk to George.”

He reached the landing that the twins’ bedroom was on. The door was cracked, and Charlie was still in there talking to George.

“I’m such an idiot,” George said.

“No, Geor-“ 

“Dad was right. How could I think anyone would want something like that?”

“I like mine.”

“You weren’t maimed or psychologically damaged.”

“Ron and Percy got a kick out of theirs, And Mum, Fleur, and Audrey didn’t seem too bothered,” Charlie tried reassuring his brother again, but George seemed to ignore him.

“How could I be so insensitive? I should have given everyone an action figure of themselves and left it at that.”

“George, sit down,” Charlie calmly commanded.

One of the beds creaked.

“You gave everyone great gifts. You gave Mum and Dad new bathrobes; Ron, Ginny, and Harry new broomsticks; Percy a new briefcase; me new dragon-hide boots; and all the other gifts, it seemed like you put a lot of thought into them as well. Why did you feel the need to give everyone those action figures, too?”

There was a moment of silence.

“I thought it might be something Fred would’ve given them,” George said quietly, “as a little joke, I guess.”

“Oh.” The other bed creaked. “I – Er – That’s –“

Arthur couldn’t stand there any longer. Gently, he tapped on the door before entering. He wasn’t sure what he would say, but he couldn’t lay that responsibility on Charlie. George sat on his bed while Charlie sat across from him on Fred’s. They both turned their attention to their father.

“I’ll take it from here, Charlie,” Arthur told him quietly. As Charlie passed him on his way out, Arthur patted him on the back and said, “Thank you.”

Arthur looked at Fred’s bed then gave George a questioning look, silently asking if it would be okay for him to sit there. Ever since his twin’s death, George had been rather picky about Fred’s things.

George nodded, giving his dad permission to sit there.

Father and son simultaneously said “George” and “Dad” after Arthur sat down. They both gestured for the other to speak first. Finally, feeling as if he should be the first because he was sure George would start apologizing, Arthur spoke.

“Son, I’m sorry,” Arthur said sincerely. “I shouldn’t have gotten so upset, and I, _especially_ , should not have taken it out on you. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I’m sorry too, Dad. I should have thought more about how it might make everyone feel.”

“You don’t need to apologize. You were only trying to make people laugh.”

“And I thought Fred –“

“I heard,” Arthur softly interrupted so his son wouldn’t have to repeat it. “I know you miss Fred. We all do. We all wish he was here with us – and he is, in spirit – but you don’t have to act like your brother.”

“I know,” George mumbled. “I just don’t…feel…complete, you know?”

“You felt like half of a whole with Fred?” Arthur ventured.

George nodded.

“You and Fred complemented each other well. You balanced each other out. Fred could be brash and wouldn’t think about the consequences of his actions while you were more level-headed and would make him stop and think. He was more carefree and fun-loving - and had a tendency to carry things too far - while you have always been more sensitive and compassionate. And you were both incredible pranksters and showed us you were more than that when you built your business.

“You and Fred were twins, yes, but you were two very different people. Son, you are your own person. You may not feel like it right now, but you are complete without your brother - and that doesn’t take anything away from the relationship you had with him. It just means that you’re going to be fine.”

“Thanks, Dad. I just don’t want Fred to be forgotten.”

“He won’t be,” Arthur said with great conviction. “But we don’t want to lose you in the process either.”

By the time Arthur and George got back downstairs, the guests had arrived and the mood had lightened substantially. Harry and Ginny helped Teddy open his Christmas gifts from them on the floor near the tree; with Harry as his godfather, it was already obvious that Teddy would be spoiled. Hermione and Percy talked with Kingsley in the sitting room. Audrey and Fleur found their own little corner to chat in.

After greeting Kingsley and the currently raven-haired baby, Arthur wandered into the kitchen to find the others. Bill talked with Professor McGonagall while Ron and Charlie were in a very animated discussion with Hagrid. Molly showed Andromeda Great-Grandmother Prewett’s Christmas dishes while Muriel rambled on about the dishes’ entire history.

Arthur gave a general “Merry Christmas!” to the new arrivals. Three of the four reciprocated. Great-Aunt Muriel met his cheerful greeting with a scowl.

Arthur braced himself.

Muriel’s eyes flicked to her great-niece when Molly discretely cleared her throat. The old woman’s expression softened slightly and she told Arthur, “Merry Christmas.”

A house full of people. That would be Distraction City for Arthur. But there was one thing he needed to do before anything else.

He managed to politely pull Hagrid and Professor McGonagall from their conversations and into the privacy of the hall. It was a rather tight squeeze with the half-giant.

“Minerva, Hagrid,” Arthur began, looking at each of them in turn, “I need to apologize to both of you. I should not have put you in the position I did a couple months ago. I am, however, thankful that you intervened. But I am sorry it had to come to that.”

“I’m just glad to see you are doing better,” Professor McGonagall said with a small smile.

“Yup,” Hagrid agreed. “Hated seein’ yeh like that, Arthur.”

“It wasn’t much fun on this side either,” Arthur said.

Having said what he needed to say, Hagrid and Professor McGonagall went back to their conversations while Arthur went to Molly.

“How's George?" Molly asked as she basted the turkey.

Arthur leaned against the counter next to the stove. "He'll be alright."

"Have you talked to your grandparents today?"

"No. They said they'd pop in for a bit when they had the chance, though. There are so many people at their house no one will miss them if they sneak out for a few minutes. Here, let me take that," Arthur said when Molly was about to put the turkey back in the oven. Levitating it worked well, but with the house full, it would be easy for someone to accidentally bump into her and cause the turkey to crash to the floor. Arthur grunted as he set the twenty-five pound bird back in the oven. 

"So, how's this coming?" he inquired.

"Right on schedule.”

“Mum!” Ron called. “When are we eating? I’m starving.”

“Not quite two hours. Grab a snack if you need to.”

Arthur glanced at his watch. It was just past two o’clock. “We’re eating at four?” he asked his wife.

“We always eat Christmas dinner at four,” she replied. They ate an early dinner on Christmas so they would skip lunch in anticipation of the upcoming feast. “Your meeting isn’t ‘til six, right?”

“It was moved up today, so it wouldn’t interfere with people’s plans.”

“What time is it then?”

“Four.” Arthur scratched his head. “You all eat when it’s ready, and I’ll eat when I get back.” He hated to miss Christmas dinner, but he didn’t want to make anyone have to wait.

“No, I’m sure no one will mind waiting an hour. I’ll just put a warming charm on the turkey like the rest of the food.”

“I think Ron would probably starve to death by then,” Arthur joked.

“He knows how to make a sandwich.”

Time flew by. Before Arthur knew it, it was time for him to leave. The holiday and house of people provided a great distraction for him.

After exiting the lift on Level Seven, Arthur leisurely wound his way through the corridors, the path imprinted in his mind from taking this route two dozen times before. The Ministry was almost completely empty due to it being a holiday.

He came to another corridor that intersected the one he was walking down. Just as he was about to turn the corner, something collided with him from behind. He tripped as someone stepped on the back of his shoe, and he caught himself on the wall. Papers scattered across the floor.

“Bollocks. Not again,” the other man cursed under his breath.

Turning around, Arthur realized it was his younger brother who had crashed into him. “Run into people often, Ian?” he quipped with a small smirk. He extended a hand to help him up.

Ian cocked his head, raised an eyebrow, and frowned slightly as color crept up his neck.

The papers flew neatly back into Ian’s hand after Arthur waved his wand.

“Shouldn’t you be at home with Molly and the kids?” Ian asked.

“I could ask you the same.”

“Touché. But, no, I was just dropping these by the office,” Ian said, gesturing to the paperwork. “I noticed a major mistake the other day and wanted to fix it before anyone noticed.”

That was just like Ian, Arthur thought. If something was out of order, whether it was his mistake or not, Ian had to correct it right away. Arthur could not understand what would be so important that it would sanction a trip to work on Christmas Day, though. That was strange even for the workaholic who was Ian.

“Arthur!” a brown-haired, young man called cheerily as he approached the brothers.

When Arthur turned his attention to the young man, he realized it was Peter, the first person who formally introduced himself at Arthur’s first meeting. The boy was nice enough, always friendly but sometimes to the point of annoyance. But ever so slowly, he was growing on Arthur.

Arthur gave the lad a wave.

“Oh - Hey, Ian!” Peter greeted as he came to stand next to the Weasleys.

“Hey, Peter,” Ian reciprocated with a genuine smile and a small laugh. “So, I see you know my brother.”

Peter narrowed his eyes at Arthur and cocked his head as he briefly studied the older man. Suddenly, he straightened up and his eyes became wide as he exclaimed, “I knew you looked familiar! You’re Arthur _Weasley_.”

“You couldn’t gather that from the _Prophet_?” Arthur asked flatly.

“I prefer the _Quibbler_. The _Prophet_ is full of rubbish,” Peter replied, waving his hand. “No, I know you because you’re Charlie’s dad, right?”

Arthur nodded once.

“Yeah, I met you a few times during summer holidays when I was at Hogwarts. I was Seeker for Hufflepuff, so Charlie and I would play in the orchard. Mrs. Weasley would have to make us come in for lunch. She always baked cookies or a cake or something like that, too. Usually, Mum and Dad wanted me home by dinner, so I didn’t see you much, but I stayed the night a few times. When you found out I was a Muggle-born, you couldn’t ask enough questions. You know, I actually just saw Charlie the other day.”

Arthur had trouble remembering the boy from all those years ago until Peter mentioned he was a Muggle-born, not only because of that fact but because he was an exceptional Quidditch player, especially since he was eleven years old before he had even heard of the sport.

“You went to play for the Wimbourne Wasps, didn’t you?” Arthur asked, crossing his arms.

“Yeah - for a few years.” Scratching the back of his neck, Peter turned his attention to the floor. “But there were a few incidents that resulted in a forced career change. Now, I work in the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Arthur said sincerely. On a more light-hearted note, he added, “Can’t be easy working with this one.” He ruffled Ian’s hair. With pink cheeks hidden behind his short beard, Ian immediately began straightening his hair with his free hand.

Peter gave a bark of laughter. “Ian being one of England’s best Seekers makes him tolerable,” he teased.

Ian blushed further.

“I’m sorry, Ian. You’re not that bad. Really.”

“On an unrelated matter, you’re back at work Monday, right?” Ian asked Peter.

“Yeppers.”

“Alright. It’s nothing too serious, but I need to talk to you first thing.”

“Sure,” Peter said uncertainly. He peaked at the papers in Ian’s hand. “Is that some stuff I did? Oh, don’t tell me I messed up again.”

Ian frowned.

“Gosh. I’m sorry. I’m such a screw up.”

“It’s fine,” Ian assured. “You’re still learning, and I caught it before anyone else noticed. No harm done. All I want to do is show you where the mistakes were, so you’ll know next time.”

Peter blew out a relieved breath. “Oh. Okay. Well, I’m gonna head in there.” He jabbed his thumb toward the corridor Arthur had been about to turn down when Ian collided with him. Many people headed that way had already passed the trio while they talked. “I heard they have extra sweets on Christmas, and I don’t want to miss out. Do you want me to grab you something?” he asked Arthur.

Arthur shook his head.

Peter took a step before turning back to Arthur. “Oh – Um – Mr. Weasley –“

“Keep calling me Arthur.”

“Arthur,” Peter corrected, “even though Charlie and I still hang out, he doesn’t know about this, so –“

“I won’t say anything.”

“Cheers.”

As Peter departed, Ian looked past Arthur and down the corridor to a room buzzing with indistinct voices. He raised his eyebrows in understanding and mild surprise. “Oh…You’re here for the alcohol counseling.”

Arthur stared at his younger brother, neither confirming nor denying that statement.

“No shame in that,” Ian assured softly.

“It’s nice of you to cover for Peter like that,” Arthur said, changing the subject.

“Well, he’s a good kid. He’s made some bad decisions, but I think it’s about time someone cut him a break,” Ian said. “He tends to stick his nose where it’s not welcome, and he can be exasperating at times, and I sometimes think he took one too many Bludgers to the head, but you can’t stay upset with him for long.”

The corners of Arthur’s mouth quirked upward. He had slowly been coming to realize that as well. He thought back to his first encounter – well, what he had thought to be his first encounter – with the young man. Even though Arthur bit his head off for staring at his scars that day, Peter always tried to talk to him. Arthur would repay him in an ill-tempered manner, but after the first few meetings, Arthur finally started to become more friendly, not just with Peter but with anyone who approached him.

“Besides, if I can put up with you going off into long ramblings about Muggles, Trent’s incessant, immature jokes, and Desmond being intermittently angry with me for no reason, I could tolerate anything,” Ian jested.

“It’s not always easy when you’re regaling us with the same stories from your glory days playing for England,” Arthur returned the joke. “‘We were playing the World Cup against Italy in the pouring rain. They were up by a hundred and fifty points. I saw something glint in a flash of lightening as I dodged a Bludger. I raced toward it and caught the Snitch just before the other Seeker and right after England scored another ten points,’” he imitated Ian enthusiastically. Then, he took on an air of indifference and shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like we were there or anything either.” He cracked a smile.

“Yeah, yeah, alright. I get it. I’m not a walk in the park either,” Ian admitted. “I’ll let you get in there. I need to get to Gran and Gramps’s anyway. Elaine and the kids are already there.”

“Watch where you’re going from now on, eh?” Arthur said, clapping Ian on the back.

The two brothers parted ways, going in opposite directions down the intersecting corridor. Arthur glanced over his shoulder at Ian; nope, he had already returned to reading the papers in his hand. Arthur shook his head. His younger brother would never learn.

As Arthur entered the room, everyone was settling into seats. There had to be twice as many people there as usual. A beautifully decorated Christmas tree stood in the front corner. Garland wrapped in lights hung from the ceiling, making elongated “U” shapes along the walls. Dishes of various Christmas goodies covered the back table.

Arthur quietly poured himself a cup of coffee and grabbed a Santa-shaped sugar cookie before finding an empty seat behind Amos. Holding the cookie between his teeth, he patted Amos on the shoulder as he sat down. Amos turned around and smiled at him.

“I thought you said you weren’t coming,” Amos whispered as the wizard up front began the meeting.

Arthur took a bite from the cookie as he removed it from his mouth and shrugged.

Arthur listened as people spoke, but did not speak himself; however, he did catch himself scanning the room for Conner at one point. He didn’t see him. He didn’t expect to. Conner never attended Friday meetings and Arthur overheard him telling someone he would be spending the holidays at home in Ireland.

Over the past few weeks, Arthur rarely saw Conner. Conner, Arthur assumed, still attended Monday meetings, but the meetings Arthur went to became sporadic since he started spending time with Molly again. He preferred going in the morning because of the nightly dates he and Molly would go on. The week he had been back at the Burrow, he went on Monday because he didn’t want to have to wake up early if he didn’t have to; he’d much rather laze around with Molly all day since he didn’t have work.

The meeting finished quickly enough. Arthur’s stomach growled as he stood. That involuntary action was not surprising considering he hadn’t eaten anything but that cookie since breakfast.

Amos faced Arthur as he stood. They shook hands.

“You must have snuck past me in the hall. Otherwise, I would’ve said something,” Arthur told him.

“Oh, I didn’t have anything else to do and I wanted plenty of time to socialize, so I got here _very_ early.” Amos waved it off. “I reckoned you’d be at home in front of a fire with your family.”

Arthur scoffed. “I was. Had to drag my sorry arse here.” He frowned. “I don’t know what happened. Something triggered it and I lost my temper with George. Besides, Molly was worried about me going a week and a half without a meeting.”

Amos’s eyebrow knit together. “Arthur, I have to agree with her. That’s not a good idea. Not right now, at least,” Amos said. “Aren’t you required to come, anyway?”

“Oh, it’s not for no reason,” Arthur clarified. “I’m taking Molly away for our anniversary.”

“Ah. Where to?”

“The Maldives.”

“I heard it’s very nice there this time of year. Very tropical.”

Arthur’s stomach growled again, reminding him that he wasn’t supposed to stay and chat.

“Say, Amos, have you eaten yet?” he asked as an idea popped into his head.

“I had brunch with some friends from grief counselling.”

“Do you have plans after this?”

With downcast eyes and a frown, Amos shook his head and sighed, “Nope.”

“Why don’t you come to the Burrow for dinner?” Arthur offered.

“Oh – No – I couldn’t possibly -”

“I insist.”

“You’re not prepared for an extra mouth.”

“We have tons of sides and a massive turkey.”

“You have a massive family,” Amos replied, “which I do not want to intrude upon.”

“You won’t. We already had time together as a family, and we have some friends over right now.”

Amos seemed to consider his offer now.

“Come on, Amos. It’s no trouble,” Arthur reassured. “And Molly banned all alcohol, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“Did Molly make her custard tart?”

Arthur nodded.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Amos exclaimed. “Come on, then.”

Arthur chuckled. Amos never could get enough of Molly’s custard tart. If ever the Diggorys were invited to dinner and Molly hadn’t made a custard tart, Amos would be deeply disappointed.

When they got to the Burrow, the table had already been extended and widened with extra chairs placed around it, making it almost impossible to walk around the kitchen; that’s why they preferred eating in the garden when the weather was nice and they had guests. All the place settings were set with the Christmas dishes Molly had been showing Andromeda earlier that afternoon, and the center of the table was filled with dishes of food. Desserts still sat on the counter for later. Most everyone had gathered around the table, Hagrid sitting at the end nearest the sitting room, which was Arthur’s usual seat, because it was the only place the half-giant could fit.

“Sorry, we’re late,” Arthur announced before pecking Molly on the cheek. Amos came through the sitting room door behind him.

“Oh, Amos!” Molly exclaimed. “It’s so nice of you to join us.”

“You’re custard tart is what sold it,” Amos joked as she hugged him.

Molly set to making a place for him and told Arthur to call the others. Harry and Hermione were upstairs somewhere. Andromeda had gone to change Teddy. Arthur had passed Bill and Charlie on the front porch just a moment ago.

Once he completed his task, Arthur made his way to the other end of the table. He slipped Kingsley the paper confirming his attendance as he squeezed between his chair and the counter. It wasn’t long before Molly took her seat by him and everyone else was settled.

Silence fell across the room when Arthur stood at the head of the table and cleared his throat. He picked up his glass and looked around the table. “I want to start by saying how thankful I am to be surrounded by family and friends – or should I say friends who have become family. The past few years have been hard on all of us. Today, I am sure, is especially difficult for each and every person here. But, those we lost are not truly gone. They are with us in spirit and in our hearts - Ted, Tonks, Remus, Alanna, Cedric, Alastor, Sirius, Dumbledore,” he took a shaky breath, “Fred, and so many others. While we remember them, let us not forget those who are still with us and to cherish the time we have with each other.” He raised his glass. The rest of the table followed suit. “Here’s to those who are with us in spirit, to family, and to a brighter future.”

A soft and solemn “Hear, hear” was said in unison around the table.

As dinner progressed, the mood lightened and the atmosphere became joyful. It quickly became impossible to distinguish what was being said halfway down the table. Conversations became entangled with one another. At the opposite end of the table, Hagrid and Amos talked animatedly. Charlie would pop into their discussion every once in a while when he wasn’t involved in a friendly, trivial debate with Bill and Kingsley. Poor Fleur smiled politely at Muriel, who prattled on about something across the table from her. Halfway down the table, Percy and Professor McGonagall seemed to be captivated by their discussion, something about the future of house-elves at Hogwarts; apparently, Hermione had gotten to Percy in the past few months. When Hermione wasn’t whispering to Harry beside her, she passionately took part in the house-elf discussion across from her. Ron and George practically shouted at each other since they were across the table and a few seats apart; Audrey even raised her voice slightly as she talked to the two brothers. Nearest him, Teddy sat in a highchair between Andromeda and Ginny. As Ginny fawned over and fed the little tyke, Andromeda and Molly talked to each other across the table. Harry seemed to be the only one not enjoying himself; the raven-haired boy – or man, Arthur supposed – had been unusually skittish all day, now Arthur came to think about it. When he asked Harry if he was alright, he received a spluttered, “Er – Yes sir, Mr. Weasley, sir.”

Suddenly, a big, booming laugh erupted from someone at the table. It wasn’t Hagrid this time, but it easily could have been. The din quietened as everyone looked toward Arthur’s end of the table. George continued to laugh a deep belly laugh. Next to him, Audrey grinned from ear to ear. Further down the table, Ron’s face turned bright red as he laughed so hard mashed potatoes shot out of his nose; Hermione watched her boyfriend in disgust. That was the first time in months anyone had seen George laugh like that; he had almost hyperventilated from laughing so hard when he turned Muriel into a canary at Percy and Audrey’s engagement party, but this was much more than that. No one heard what was said, but Audrey somehow brought this on, and it was the best Christmas gift any of the Weasleys could get.

People turned back to their own conversations when the laughing fit subsided. Eventually, everyone stopped eating, even Ron. They still sat around the table when the Floo in the kitchen roared to life and Gran and Gramps stepped through exclaiming, “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” the table chorused.

“I do hope we are not interrupting,” Gran said, carrying a large, glass bowl.

Both Arthur and Molly stood.

“Not at all,” Arthur said. “I think we were about to scatter, anyway.”

“Is there a place I can set this, Molly?” Gran asked, lifting the bowl slightly. “I made a trifle – I forewent the sherry,” she added to her grandson.

While Molly cleared a spot among the desserts on the counter, people began to drift to various parts of the house.

Gramps squeezed his grandson’s shoulder. “How have you been, Son?”

Arthur watched Molly. With a smile that reached his eyes, he replied, “I’m fine.”

That was one of the rare times Gramps believed Arthur when he said he was fine - and Arthur was. He was happy and his family was as whole as it could be, but things weren’t perfect. He still had to regain the trust of his children, and, then, there was the business of the curse.

“You’re grandmother has been driving me mad this past week. Ever since you moved out, it’s been too quiet around the house at night – her words, not mine - so we’ve had at least two little ones spend the night every night.”

“Well, you may have more to visit in the near future. I’m sure it won’t be long before Bill and Fleur or Percy and Audrey –“ Arthur stopped abruptly.as a thought popped into his head that had never crossed his mind before. The way Ginny fawned over Teddy all day – How Harry flinched any time someone mentioned his name and shook like a leaf the rest of the time. Was his little girl _pregnant_?

“Arthur?”

Arthur shook that thought out of his head. “It’s nothing.”

Gramps followed Arthur to where Gran and Molly stood near the sink. Muriel shuffled up to them.

“Good evening, Muriel,” Gran said politely.

Muriel drew herself up to her full height. “Irene. Costin.”

Gramps crossed his arms and grunted, “Muriel.”

Muriel sniffed and eyed Arthur. “I see you’ve finally cleaned up your son’s mess – at least temporarily,” she said to his grandparents.

Gramps uncrossed his arms and drew in a deep breath, his chest puffing out, as he readied his rebuttal, but he deflated just as quickly when Arthur gave a miniscule shake of his head. Instead, he walked away. Gran and Arthur followed as Molly scolded her great-aunt.

“She’s been halfway decent today,” Arthur said in an attempt to calm his grandfather. Neither of his grandparents liked the way Muriel treated him, but he had gotten over it a long time ago. And even though they were all in the same house during their Hogwarts years, Costin and Irene never got along with Muriel. She always had been a judgmental gossip. “I think Molly had a word with her beforehand.”

“Even so, you do not deserve to be treated that way. I have never understood why you stand by and take that,” Gramps said in an angry whisper. Gran placed a placating hand on his arm.

Arthur shrugged. “What good would arguing with her do? She has never liked me, and she never will. She never thought I was good enough for Molly. This past year, I’ve only done things to reinforce that belief.”

“But you do know that’s not true?” Gran asked. “If you don’t believe us, look at the life you built, the family you raised, how hard you’ve worked.”

“I know.”

“Just don’t let her get to you, Son,” Gramps said.

“Have I ever let her get to me?”

“Not as far as I know, but you do have a tendency to bottle things up.”

“I don’t care about her opinion of me,” Arthur stated firmly.

Gran and Gramps wandered off to visit with their great-grandchildren before having to go back to the Weasley bash taking place at their house. As he passed to talk to Amos, Arthur overheard Harry and Hermione talking in hushed voices on the stairs. He stopped.

“Look, Harry, now is the perfect time,” the brunette said. “Everyone is here, including her great-grandparents. I’m sure they would love to be a part of this moment.”

“But her brothers –“

“May be shocked at first, but they’ll come ‘round. I mean, honestly, it shouldn’t be that surprising. You’ve slept in the same bed for months now.”

 _Shite_. Harry got Ginny pregnant. She couldn’t be, though. How was she supposed to finish school? Or play professional Quidditch? She told them about how the Holyhead Harpies scouted her at the most recent match and how excited she was. Arthur was all for having grandchildren, but this was too early for his little girl. She wasn’t even married yet, for Merlin’s sake!

Footsteps jolted Arthur out of his thoughts as the two bounded down the stairs and past him.

“Fleur, will you get everyone in the kitchen to come in here please?” Hermione asked Fleur, who was nearest the kitchen.

A moment later, the whole family, plus guests, were accounted for in the sitting room.

“Harry!” Ginny squealed as he pulled her up off the couch to stand with him in front of the fireplace. “What are –“

She suddenly fell silent when the raven-haired man got down on one knee without letting go of her hand.

“Ginny, I’ve loved you for a long time. There was never any doubt about it. The many months we were apart were dreadful. I never want that to happen again. I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to ask this, and I couldn’t wait until you graduated. So -” Harry pulled a small box out of his pocket and opened it. The diamonds sparkled in the firelight. “Ginny Weasley, will you marry me?”

With another squeal, Ginny nodded her head.

Harry slipped the ring on her finger before standing. She threw her arms around him and kissed him square on the lips to the whoops and hollers of the onlookers. Arthur breathed an internal sigh of relief. The dinner with Harry asking his blessing all those months ago had completely slipped his mind. Whether the boy intentionally planned for that to happen or not, Arthur did not know, but it was nice being surprised by the proposal.

A crowd quickly formed around Harry and Ginny so everyone could hug and congratulate the couple.

“Yeh know what this calls fer?” a teary-eyed Hagrid exclaimed as he rummaged through his many coat pockets. “Wait – It’s in ‘ere somewhere. I carry it jus’ in case summat like this ‘appens.”

After a moment, Professor McGonagall asked, “Hagrid, what _are_ you looking for?”

“Champaign, o’ course!” he answered, his eyes landing on Arthur as he looked up from his coat. He immediately stopped his rummaging. “Oh! I’m such an idiot! I mean, ‘ere I am lookin’ fer alcohol in front of an alcoholic,” he spluttered.

Amos quietly cleared his throat. “Er – two, actually,” he corrected with two fingers raised. “But it doesn’t bother me.”

“I’m sorry. I got carried away. I wasn’t thinkin’. Oh, I’m so sorry,” Hagrid wailed.

“You’re okay, Hagrid. It’s not that big of a deal,” Arthur assured.

“It _is_ a big deal,” Molly cut in. “I explicitly stated no alcohol was allowed, whether it was intended to be taken out or not.”

“Molly, just being around alcohol isn’t going to push me over the edge,” Arthur reasoned.

Molly fixed him with a stern look. “It has before.”

“That was different. I was a day sober, and the only reason I made it that long was because I had been stuck in the hospital and couldn’t get any. It’s been over two months. I have a little more control over it now.”

“I know, and I’m proud of you for that. _I am_. But with the problems you were having earlier –“

“Why don’t we take this somewhere more private?” Arthur interrupted.

Without protest, Molly followed him into the kitchen.

“Look, as far as I know, I will always have times where I want to drink. Some are bound to be worse than others. But that’s part of life for me now. I don’t want other people to not be able to drink because I’m around.” He took her hands in his. “This is _my_ problem.”

“I know. I just don’t want to take any chances. I don’t want to lose you again.” She squeezed his hands. “I _can’t_ lose you again.”

As much as Arthur wanted to tell her everything would be alright, as much as he wanted to ease her fears, he couldn’t. It was impossible to guarantee he wouldn’t drink again, but he would do his damndest to make sure that didn’t happen. All he could do now was hold her close.

“I know we knew this was a possibility,” Molly mumbled into his chest, “but I didn’t think it would actually happen to you. I wasn’t prepared for any of this to happen.”

“It caught me off guard, too.”

Arthur kissed the top of her head before leaning back. “Hey,” he said. Molly looked up at him. “Our little girl just got engaged. Let’s not miss celebrating that milestone with her.”

With that, they rejoined the others.


	39. Uncertain Outcomes: Part 1

After a fortnight off work, it was back to the daily grind for Arthur. His demeanor at work gradually changed over the last weeks of the year. He was less strict and formal than he had been during the first several months of being department head. Now, at the start of the year, he was laidback and friendly, chatting with colleagues again and allowing department meetings to be more relaxed, all the while maintaining an air of authority.

This positive change did not go unnoticed by those who worked with him. In previous months, it was well-known that Mr. Weasley, as his subordinates called him, was not one to cross. But as the week progressed, they became more comfortable around him. Perkins even commented on how nice it was to see Arthur back to his old self. All in all, the department had become a much more pleasant place to work.

During the Monday department meeting the second week Arthur was back, someone knocked on the conference room door. When Arthur called for the person to enter, Ian stuck his head in.

“Arthur, I need to talk to you.”

“I’m in the middle of a meeting. Can it not wait?” Arthur sternly asked. Even though he was in a much better mood, he still did not appreciate interruptions such as this. He had a department to run and respect to command, after all. If he let people - even his own brother - come in and interrupt, his underlings may take advantage of his lighter, softer personality.

“It’s important.”

“Fine. Wait outside, and I’ll come talk to you in a few minutes.” He looked back down at the folder in front of him.

Ian hesitated. “Arthur…it’s Gramps.”

Arthur’s head snapped up.

“We need to go.”

Arthur swallowed hard before looking to the man sitting to his right. “Perkins –“

“Go ahead. I’ll finish up.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, Arthur asked his younger brother, “What happened?”

“They got a lot of snow last night. Part of the roof on the barn caved in. Gramps went to repair it without using magic. Desmond and I went over for lunch, and when Desmond went to get Gramps, that’s when we found him. He must have slipped. No one knows how long he was out there,” Ian explained as they walked briskly through the Ministry. “It could’ve been minutes or it could’ve been hours.”

 _Damn it!_ Arthur warned Gramps months ago that something might happen if he didn’t start using magic to help out. Yes, Gramps was still a strong, healthy, able-bodied man, but he was no spring chicken. And it wasn’t as if Gramps _couldn’t_ use magic; Arthur saw him use it on a daily basis, just not with farm work.

A knot formed in his stomach as a thought occurred to him: He and Gramps never got around to fixing the leak in the roof. What if that’s what caused it to collapse? Gramps should have never been on that roof by himself. And it would have been Arthur’s fault if the leak weakened the roof, because he had insisted Gramps not repair it without him, but he’d busied himself with work and then gotten swept away when Molly decided to give him another chance. He made time to help with chores, but repairing a hole the size of a Snitch would take much more time. They could have taken some time to fix it while building the extension, but it had slipped both of their minds.

“Where did it collapse?” Arthur asked.

“Somewhere near the front.” Arthur gulped. The leak was near the front. “It’s not massive. A few feet in diameter.”

“Will he be okay?” Arthur asked.

Ian sighed, “Don’t know yet.”

Not much later, the two brothers walked into the St. Mungo’s waiting area. It was easy to spot the crowd of redheads in the far corner – Well, all redheads except a bald wizard, a grey-haired wizard, and a grey-haired witch, who were Gramps’s brothers and Gran. The sea of redheads contained Arthur’s other four brothers and Gran and Gramps’s five remaining sons.

Arthur and his brothers were the only grandchildren there, but that wasn’t unusual with how their grandparents viewed them compared to their cousins. Arthur noticed another distinction as they got closer: his grandparents’ true sons sat nearest Gran while his brothers existed on the edges. But that wasn’t unusual either. Even though his grandparents viewed him and his brothers as sons of their own, the younger generation would always come in second to their uncles.

It also didn’t slip his notice that he and Ian were the last to arrive. Though, he wasn’t sure why or if there was even any particular reason for it.

“Hey, Gran,” Arthur whispered as he leaned over and hugged her. She wrapped her arms around him snugly, handkerchief in hand. For a second, he thought about asking how she was, but decided against it because he already knew the answer he would receive. Besides, she had probably already been asked that plenty and he knew how it felt to be asked how you were over and over again when you felt like the world was falling down around you. Instead, he asked, “Do you know how he is?”

“They haven’t given us any definite answers…but it doesn’t look good.”

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat.

Alexander came up behind Arthur and Ian in his green Healer’s robes. He squeezed Arthur’s shoulder.

“Um…” Arthur dragged the word out, unable to comprehend his feelings. He blinked. “Okay.” Without another word, he numbly wandered over to a seat in the corner a little ways away from anyone else.

Gran watched Arthur for a moment before turning to Alexander and Ian. “Keep an eye on your brother.”

“Of course.”

Alexander and Ian stepped away from their family and glanced back at Arthur, who was staring blankly ahead of him.

“Should we get Molly?” Ian asked his eldest brother.

“I’ll send her an express owl on my way back up,” Alexander said. “I have to get back to work, but I’ll check in whenever I can.”

Ian went to sit beside Arthur as Alexander bid Gran farewell.

Neither Arthur nor Ian spoke for some time.

“Are you okay?” Ian finally asked.

“’M fine,” Arthur mumbled.

Silence fell over them once again.

Light conversations began and ended between some of their brothers and uncles. Magazine pages rustled every few minutes. A few Weasley wives arrived. (Molly still hadn’t shown up, but Ian didn’t tell Arthur they contacted her.) For once, Trenton wasn’t making inappropriate jokes. Desmond was also unusually reserved; when Paulene got there, he clung to her hand but remained silent. Alexander came and went.

There was still no word on Gramps.

Arthur spoke for the first time in hours. “Why was I the last one here?”

Ian looked up from his Quidditch magazine. “What?”

“Was no one going to tell me?”

“That’s ludicrous. Uncle Stuart, Desmond, and I were at their house, Alexander was here, and we sent emergency owls to everyone else. Gran just thought it would be better if someone got you.”

“Why’s that?”

Ian shrugged. “She was worried you wouldn’t take the news well.”

Arthur scoffed. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to run off and get drunk. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“She’s just watching out for you,” Ian said as Trenton came over. “Do you need to go to a meeting tonight?”

“Damn, I’d hate to work in your department,” Trenton said. “Meetings after the workday? I can barely tolerate the ones I have now.”

“Not those types of meetings, you dolt,” Ian said. “He’s going to the cou-“ He stopped short when he noticed Arthur glaring at him. Even though just about everyone knew he had a drinking problem, Ian was the only brother who knew he went to meetings for it, and Arthur wanted to keep it that way.

Trenton looked between his younger brothers quizzically before shrugging it off. “Neil and I are going to grab dinner for everyone. Do you want anything?”

“Yeah, whatever’s easiest,” Ian said.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Arthur said.

Before Trenton could walk away, Ian told him, “He’ll have something, too.”

He turned back to Arthur. “So?”

“I’m staying here.”

Silence returned once again.

Right after Trenton and Neil left, the family was shown to a private waiting room since there were so many of them and they had been there all day. Arthur found a chair in an isolated corner of the room.

When Trenton and Neil returned with the takeaway, Arthur begrudgingly forced down a few bites to satisfy Gran, Ian, and Alexander, who had managed to get off work an hour early. No one else seemed to care if he ate or not, but they didn’t really have a reason to. Gran was concerned because she knew everything that had gone on with him in the past, especially recently. Alexander and Ian only cared because Gran had voiced her concern to them.

A Healer tapped on the door as he stepped over the threshold. Everyone’s heads snapped up. Half of them stood.

“Mrs. Weasley?” he asked.

Gran stepped forward. Her eldest son, Stuart, followed suit and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Your husband sustained some serious injuries. We were able to mend several broken bones as well as two cracked vertebrae – We won’t know if there has been nerve damage until he wakes up, though. He also suffered some internal bleeding. And we put him into a magically-induced coma due to severe swelling of the brain. In a few days, we will see about bringing him out of it, but the longer it takes him to wake up, the less likely it is that he’ll make a full recovery. The next forty-eight hours are the most critical.”

“Can I see him?” Gran whispered.

The Healer sighed, his lips pressed in a thin line. After some thought, his expression softened. “With the condition he is in, he shouldn’t have visitors, but…I’ll give you five minutes.”

“Can someone go with her?” Stuart asked quietly.

The Healer hesitated again. He glanced back at Gran. “One other person. Five minutes. And you have to be _very_ quiet.”

“Thank you,” Gran said.

“Alright,” the Healer began again, speaking to the room as a whole. “Now, I suggest you all go home and get some rest. You have a few rough days ahead of you. However, I know I can’t make you go home, so if you wish to stay, you may continue to use this room.”

After the Healer led Gran and Stuart from the room, everyone who had stood returned to their seats. This time, the silence that fell covered the entire room, not just a corner.

Arthur put his head in his hands and let out a shaky breath. If something happened to Gramps…he didn’t know what he’d do. Without fail, Gramps was _always_ there. Throughout his entire life, he could always count on Gramps. Costin Weasley was everything Arthur thought a father should be. Where Septimus failed in every aspect, Gramps prevailed. Arthur – his brothers – they wouldn’t be losing a grandfather; they would be losing a father.

Thoughts continued to race through Arthur’s head, blocking out any murmurs in the room and Gran and Stuart’s return.

He rubbed his face and suddenly stood. As he crossed the room, Gran managed to catch his attention.

“Arthur, where are you going?”

He blinked at her. He opened his mouth before closing it again. He swallowed. “I…I’m leaving.”

“I’d like it if you’d sit with me,” Gran said, discretely nudging Stuart beside her. He moved to an empty seat.

Arthur’s eyes darted from Gran to the open door. He would do anything for her, but he needed to get out of there. He didn’t know where he would go or what he would do. He just needed to leave.

“I’m sorry, Gran, but I ought to go.”

Head down, he continued on his way. He had barely made it to the threshold when someone coming into the room bumped into him. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

Molly looked up at him. “Arthur,” she breathed. “I’m sorry. I only just got the owl. I was running errands all day and went to dinner with Andromeda since you were going to –“

But she didn’t get to finish. Arthur wrapped his arms around her like his life depended on it. “I’m just glad you’re here now,” he croaked into her hair.

When he let go, she asked, “Were you going somewhere?”

Scratching the back of his head, he glanced at Gran. “I-I was…going to get Gran some tea.”

A few minutes later, Arthur and Molly were in the visitor’s tearoom and he had filled her in on what happened and what the Healer said.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Not looking up from stirring sugar into a cup of tea, he shrugged and said, “I’m fine.”

“Arthur,” she said, placing her hand on top of his. He stopped stirring, but continued staring at the swirling liquid. “Don’t shut me out again.”

He closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. When he opened them again, they stung with unshed tears. After rapidly blinking them away, he looked over at her. “I can’t lose him,” he choked.

"You may not have to yet,” she assured. “You need to think positively. But you also need to acknowledge that your grandparents are getting up there in age and you will have to face that eventually."

"I can't go through that again, not right now. For Merlin's sake, we just lost our son."

"I know." She reached up and ran a hand through his hair before cupping his cheek. "It's not fair."

"I know I've never shown it, but I couldn't have done any of this without you,” Arthur confessed. He kissed the palm of her hand then took it in both of his.

"I haven't done anything. I know I should have been there for you, but - Look, your grandparents, they're the ones you need to thank.”

"I don't mean the past few months. Everything since I was a teenager, it would have been impossible without you.”

"You're giving me too much credit. You would have been fine."

"No.” Arthur shook his head. “I've had a lot of time to reflect and to think about things the past couple months. Things like how much you’ve done for me - how my life could have been if you hadn’t married me - what it would be like if you didn’t forgive me and we couldn’t make this work again. You have no idea how much I need you - how much I rely on you…how much I _always_ have. I can’t live this life without you.”

"I'm not going anywhere." Molly reassured, planting a chaste kiss on his lips.

**oOoOo**

The hours wore on. The private waiting room remained full of Weasleys, everyone having had refused to leave. There was no more news on Gramps’s condition, though no one expected there to be.

In the early hours of the morning, Arthur jolted awake in the hard chair, trying to catch his breath. What he had thought to be heartburn until recently told otherwise stung his chest. Molly, who was curled up against him, raised her head in a state of drowsy disorientation.

“I’m sorry, love,” Arthur murmured. He smoothed her hair and kissed the top of her head. He tried to discretely pull his shirt away from his chest and quickly inspect the scars. Sure enough, they were brighter than usual. “Everything’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

He rested his head against the wall behind him as she snuggled closer to him. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he noticed Alexander eyeing him with concern.

“It’s nothing,” he whispered.

Alexander did not look convinced. “Arthur, if you need to see me sooner –“

Arthur cast _Muffliato_ so as not to disturb their relatives in various stages of sleep or to be overheard by the few who were awake.

“I know, but remember, you’re not supposed to get involved outside of my appointments. Do not pry.”

“I’m not. But if something has changed or worsened, you need to tell me.”

“It really was nothing. It’s just…a normal nightmare.”

“Why don’t I check you over? Take this opportunity to gather more information,” Alexander suggested.

“No.”

“Well, when are you going to take a few days to stay in the Cyprian Youdle Ward?”

“When I have time.”

“You need to make time.”

“I can’t. I’m still playing catch-up at work. And this –“ He looked around the room. “– isn’t helping any.”

“Maybe you should take a sabbatical. You’re friends with the Minister, aren’t you? He could fast-track it, and I’m sure he would understand the importance of it once you explained your situation.”

“I can’t aff-“ Arthur stopped short. He could, financially, afford a month-long sabbatical. That was the first time in his career that he was making enough money to take a sabbatical. There was still a problem, though: he had already missed too much work since taking on this new position. And he was not going to take advantage of his friendship with Kingsley. If Fudge or Scrimgeour was Minister, he wouldn’t walk into their office and ask for paperwork for a sabbatical to be expedited. Besides, Kingsley had already cut him a big break after the incident at the Hog’s Head and, then, at Percy’s wedding. “I can’t take a sabbatical,” he rephrased.

“At least tell me you’re taking care of yourself – well, except for stressing over work,” Alexander said.

“I am.”

**oOoOo**

Over the next two days, no one left, except for two or three people to get food for everyone or to take care of the animals at Gran and Gramps’s house. No matter how strongly someone argued with Gran that she needed to sleep in a bed, no one made any progress.

Finally, about forty-eight hours after the prognosis, the Healer returned. He rapped lightly on the door as he stepped over the threshold. The occupants of the private waiting room looked up at him expectantly, a few standing.

“Mrs. Weasley,” he directed at Gran, but the others listened keenly as well, “there has been no change in your husband’s condition, which is actually a good thing for now, because it means there has been no more swelling. It will take a few days for it to go down, though. We will continue to monitor it, and when it has gone down enough, we will bring him out of the magically-induced coma. And, as I said before, his chances of a full recovery rely heavily on how soon he wakes up. For now, you, your children, and any siblings are allowed to see him, but keep it to two visitors at a time.”

"What about my grandsons?" Gran asked.

"I'm sorry, only your children can go in, not grandchildren."

“They’re as good as my own children,” Gran argued. The younger generation shared stunned but meaningful glances with one another before looking back at their grandmother. Of course, they knew they held a special position, but nothing had ever been said outright like that, except when Gramps talked with Arthur not too long ago. “My husband and I practically raised them.”

“I am sorry, but it’s hospital policy for situations like this. If you only had one or two grandsons, I could bend the rules, but –” The Healer shook his head.

“So if I had twelve sons, you would only allow half of them in?”

The Healer sighed. “I would strongly advise that only six or seven people go back in total. Mrs. Weasley, I don’t doubt you have a very strong relationship with your grandsons, but please understand this is in the patient’s best interest. At this point in time, having too many visitors could hinder the recovery process.”

Hearing that, Gran deflated.

“Your grandsons will be able to see him in another three or four days.”

Arthur’s heart jumped into his throat. The Healer hadn’t given them any particularly good news and it would still be a while before he could see Gramps. What if something happened in that time? He’d hoped Gran would have been able to convince him, but no; she had put up a good fight, considering the state she was in. Once again, it was proven that he and his brothers were not equal to their uncles, but second to them, no matter what was said. Instead of returning to his seat, Arthur leaned against a vacant section of wall and stuffed his hands in his pockets; Molly stood beside him and soothingly ran her hand along his arm.

The Healer left them. Instead of leaving as well, Gran sank back into her chair.

“Mum?” Stuart asked, placing a hand on her back.

Gran ignored Stuart and looked distractedly at Gramps’s brothers. “You two can go ahead,” she told them.

“Are you sure, Irene? We can wait.”

“I’m sure.” As her brothers-in-law exited the room, she told her sons, “I need some time with your nephews. Will you –“ But she didn’t have to finish, her sons and daughters-in-law vacated the room. When Margaret, Molly, and Paulene (Ian’s wife, Elaine, was at home watching their youngest and Desmond and Paulene’s daughters) made to leave as well, she told them they could stay. They reclaimed their spots next to their respective husbands.

For the next few minutes, Gran twisted the handkerchief in her hands. It was a mystery what she was thinking or why she hadn’t gone straight to Gramps. Finally, she turned to her grandsons and spoke.

“I’m sorry. I know how much you boys must want to see him.”

“It’s okay, Gran. We understand,” Alexander spoke up. But only Neil made any sign of agreement.

“There’s something we never told any of you – We should have – We _really_ should have.” She looked around at her grandsons. “You really are like sons to us, your grandfather and me. And I feel like we never did enough for you all. You deserved more. You deserved better, _much_ better. You never should have come in second to anyone or anything. You should have been able to experience what it felt like to be the most important thing in someone’s life – Not that that’s not true now,” she added with a meaningful glance at the present wives. “You were all dealt a terrible hand in life, and we feel like it was ultimately our fault. There are so many things I wish we would have done differently.”

There was a knock at the door. One of Gramps’s brothers poked his head in. “Oh, I’m sorry. We wanted to let you know that you can go in when you’re ready,” he told Gran before making himself scarce.

“I just want you to know how much you all mean to us,” Gran continued, “and how proud we are of you, and how much we love you.”

With a small smile, Gran left her grandsons to digest what she said. No one said a word. None of the brothers looked at one another. Gran must have told their aunts and uncles to give them a few more minutes on her way to Gramps because none of them came back yet.

Everyone’s attention turned to Trenton as he stood abruptly and said, “That’s a load of Hippogriff shite.” He looked down at Neil, who was sitting beside him. “Come on, Neil.”

“I’m gonna stay here a while,” Neil said, not moving from his seat.

Trenton looked to Arthur, who still leaned against the wall. “Arthur?”

He straightened up. Molly’s grip tightened on his forearm. “No,” he told Trenton.

Ian stood. “I’ll go with you.”

Trenton narrowed his eyes at his other brothers. “You actually believe what she said?” he scoffed. “Come on, how hard would it have been to put us first for a change? All their kids were grown by the time we were born, and we were the youngest grandkids. They could have done more if they wanted. Everything Gran just said was a-a-a load of – of –“

“- Hippogriff shite?” Arthur supplied, stepping away from the wall, and Molly.

“Yeah.”

Without warning, Arthur grabbed Trenton’s shirtfront and slammed him hard against the wall, causing everyone else to jump out of their seats, especially Neil who had been in danger of being squashed. Trenton’s eyes went wide for a split second, and the seat of the chair dug into the backs of his legs. Molly made to approach Arthur, but Alexander put an arm out to stop her.

“Arthur!” Alexander barked

“Arthur?” Neil echoed uncertainly.

But Arthur ignored them. “Say that again,” he growled in Trenton’s face.

Trenton glared at his younger brother. “She didn’t mean a fucking word.”

“They have done more for us than anyone ever has,” Arthur said, his voice rising with every word. “Even now.” Arthur let go with his right hand, but did not let his grip loosen with the other. “Remind me, who let you live with them after you dropped out of school and had no job and no place to live because you were too afraid to go home and face Septimus?” He paused for a second, but didn’t let Trenton answer. “Now, say that one more time,” he dared, fist raised at his side and face hot with rage.

“We never meant as much to them as they make out.”

Arthur reared back, but mere inches away from Trenton’s face, something stopped him. He jerked his head around to see Desmond holding his upper arm. He looked back at Trenton, who had a cocky smirk on his face. Arthur shoved him against the wall one more time before letting go and yanking his arm free from his youngest brother as he stepped back. Molly came to stand near him on his left and slipped her hand into his. He looked down at their hands and took a deep breath.

Trenton stepped away from the chair. The previously smooth sheetrock behind him was now cracked. “Do you know how many times I _begged_ Gran and Gramps to let me live with them growing up? They knew _exactly_ what was going on in that godforsaken house, and they just left us there! They were never there when it really counted.”

“What are you talking about?” Arthur asked, aghast. “We were the only grandkids who had permanent bedrooms at their house we were there so much. And if they let you live with them, they would have had to let all of us live with them.”

“That’s what they should’ve done!” Trenton argued.

“There was nothing I wanted more than to live with them permanently, but Mum sure as hell didn’t deserve that. How would you feel if someone took away your kids?”

“I never beat me kids or my wife. I'm not Septimus. In this room, the person who most closely resembles Septimus, is _you_ ,” Trenton spat.

Arthur glared daggers at his older brother, his teeth clenched. Molly squeezed his hand.

“I may blackout, but, come on, I don’t forget _everything_ when I drink, like Halloween.”

“Trent,” Arthur quietly warned.

“Oh, right, no one else knows about this. Everyone had already left and Gran and Gramps had gone to bed when you –“

“– _Trent_ –“

“– got pissed and told me why, exactly, Molly left you.” The surprise at the last part must have crossed Arthur’s face because Trenton added, “Or is that something _you_ don’t remember?” as their aunts and uncles began to reenter the room. Trenton was right; he didn’t remember that. He only wanted to keep Trenton from spilling the secret that he’d gotten drunk on Halloween (two weeks after he’d been telling everyone that he’d quit drinking). Everything after that was a complete blank. That he had told him the reasons for the separation was especially a shock because, while he’d confided in Trenton in the past, this was something he didn’t want anyone who didn’t already know to find out. “Which reminds me, do you know what happened after you told me about abusing your wife?” Trenton asked.

Arthur gulped. He didn’t know, but he didn’t want to find out.

“We went outside so you could blow off steam. That’s how a Snitch-sized hole ended up in the roof of the barn.” A flash of blue light in a dark field flitted through Arthur’s mind. “Where did the roof cave in, Desmond?”

“The side opposite the house, near the front.”

“Which, if memory serves, is where a rock –” A small rock flew through the air toward the barn “– and, consequently, a leak ended up.”

“No,” Arthur whimpered while everyone else stood in stunned silence. Bile rose in his throat.

“Trent, you’re forgetting something,” Neil spoke up. “I was there, too.”

“So?”

“Unlike you, I actually remember what happened,” he said evenly. “Arthur, it wasn’t you. It was a rock that Trent sent flying.”

That didn’t make Arthur feel any better. Even though it was not directly caused by him, it never would have happened if he hadn’t gotten drunk that night, and, thus, they would not be where they were now. This new information must have thrown Trenton for a loop as well because he opened and closed his mouth several times without saying anything until renewing his attack on Arthur in an attempt to take the attention off himself.

“Well, I’m still not like our father. Arthur destroyed the Hog’s Head, for Merlin’s sake; I know you remember that,” he directed at Arthur, “what with it being all over the front page. And how could anyone forget the scuffle you got into at _your son’s wedding_ \- well, fine, _I_ forgot, but I was told what happened.”

Arthur had no idea where any of this was coming from. What had started out as a strong disagreement about their grandparents quickly turned into Trenton personally attacking him – Well, he had to admit shoving Trenton against the wall may not have been the best way to handle things. Nothing like this had ever happened before; they were closer with each other than any of their other brothers. Arthur and Trenton had gotten upset with each other in the past, sure, but it had never gone this far.

Breathing heavily with renewed rage, Arthur tried letting go of Molly’s hand as he stepped forward, but she only held on tighter. At the same time, Desmond stepped between his older brothers and put a hand on Arthur’s chest, his jaw set. Arthur’s eyes flitted to Desmond before returning to Trenton.

Instead of continuing his advance, he said, “I'm sober now.”

“You keep saying that, but you’re not. You are not sober, Arthur. You’re a dry drunk,” Trenton said with disgust.

“And what would you know about either of those? This – the past two days - is probably the longest you've gone without a drink in decades.”

Trenton ignored his brother's comment. “You’ve been biting all of our heads off for months, you bum cigarettes off me every time you see me - and I'm sure I'm not the only one –“ Neil made a face that indicated Trenton was correct in his assumption. “– and you run the unhappiest department in the Ministry; everyone who has anything to do with that department loves it when you miss work. It's miserable to be around you. You know, I'm surprised Molly’s even here. I’d’ve thought it would have taken a miracle for your two to get back together - That, or you’re dying.”

Arthur blanched. Molly made an indistinct noise beside him. He glanced over at her out of the corner of his eye, took a deep breath, and rubbed his thumb over hers before staring at Trenton again.

“Get out of my sight,” he commanded through gritted teeth.

Trenton angrily straightened his clothes before storming out.

Arthur looked at Ian. “Do you honestly think he’s right?”

“I-I - don’t - know. They could’ve taken us in after Mum died,” Ian said in reference to himself, Arthur, Neil, and Desmond. He ducked his head and left, pushing his way through those standing at the door.

Arthur wrapped Molly in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled into her hair. 

A dull pain grew in his chest, and he suddenly became lightheaded. He sat down heavily in a chair, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands. The scars on his neck and chest became uncomfortably warm.

“A-Arthur?” Neil stuttered, sounding much like he did when he was a small, scared child.

Still leaning forward, Arthur casually ran a hand through his hair and let it rest on the side of his neck as he looked up, covering the scars that were impossible to hide without a scarf. He felt his heart beating irregularly. Glancing at Alexander, he noticed his eldest brother watching him with extreme apprehension; he didn’t even have to see Molly to know she looked much the same way. Most everyone’s eyes were on him. Perhaps, he looked worse than he felt.

“No,” he huffed in response to Neil’s unasked question, knowing that it be something along the lines of “ _Are_ you dying?” Technically, he was - well, if he was being technical, everyone was, but he knew that’s not what Neil meant - but if the Healers were correct, it wouldn’t be for a very long time, so why did it matter what he told his brothers now?

A wave of nausea washed over him. He stood abruptly while scratching his neck so his hand had a reason to stay there. After a few steps, stars dazzling before his eyes forced him to stop. He stumbled backward. Just as his legs gave way, one of his uncles caught him. Alexander, who had been close behind Arthur, helped lie him down.

A minute later, Arthur came to, Molly and Alexander kneeling on either side of him.

“Trash can,” he immediately said, raising up on an elbow.

“What?”

“Trash can,” he choked out.

Someone quickly passed them the small waste basket from beside the door just in time for Arthur to vomit into it.

When he finished, Arthur wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sat up fully. He propped his arm on his knee, partially shielding his discolored scars with his shoulder.

“Will you let me check you over _now_?” Alexander hissed so only Arthur and Molly could hear.

“No –“

“Let him, Arthur,” Molly said, reaching to pull his shirt collar down. Arthur swatted her hand away.

“No. I’m tired and stressed and I stood up too fast. That’s all,” he snapped.

With some assistance, Arthur got to his feet. Rubbing at the scars - this time more out of discomfort than trying to conceal them – he bolted for the men’s toilets. He rinsed his mouth out and washed his hands before splashing cool water on his face.

A stall door banged shut.

“Oh – Arthur,” Ian said, stopping short. “I-I decided not to go with Trent. But I am going home.”

“Fine. Go.,” Arthur shot, still bent over the sink, water dripping from his face. He groped for a paper towel.

“It’s not that I don’t care, I –“

“Just _go_.”

Without another word, Ian obeyed.

Carelessly patting his face with the rough paper towel, Arthur waved his wand at the door. The lock clicked. He turned around, leaned against the counter, and took a deep breath. His chest still ached. In vain, he tried to ease the pain by clutching his shirt over his chest.

The lock clicked again, and the door cracked open.

“I thought I locked that,” Arthur said, quickly moving his hand from his chest to his neck.

“You did,” Alexander replied. He eyed the hand covering Arthur’s scars. “I’ve already seen them.”

Knowing there was no longer any point in attempting to hide the obvious, Arthur removed his hand, but did not give Alexander his full attention. Instead, he focused on the Herringbone pattern the floor tiles created in various shades of grey.

“If you changed your mind about wanting me as your Healer, you can tell me,” his eldest brother went on casually.

“What?” Arthur’s head snapped up. “No - I trust you with that more than anyone else.”

“Then why won’t you let me do anything?”

“I don’t want to waste your time, because there is nothing to be done.”

“Arthur, I would drop everything to help you, even if it was for nothing.”

“You wouldn’t if I was any other patient - And any other Healer wouldn’t do that for me.”

“That's a perk of having me as your Healer, I suppose.”

“We had an agreement that I would be like any other patient – that you would separate work and family. You wouldn’t overstep your bounds,” Arthur reminded him. “Because if you hadn’t been at the hospital with me and if you didn’t specialize in this, you wouldn’t even know. You would be just as in the dark as everyone else.”

“I know,” Alexander sighed. “But I don’t think I can stand on the sidelines when something is happening right in front of me. I fear it may be more difficult to keep our agreement than I originally thought. I just hope that doesn’t change your mind about wanting me as your Healer, because I want to be.”

“Alright, fine,” Arthur conceded. “You can check on me, but if I say I’m fine, you have to leave it at that. What just happened, though, was completely unrelated,” he lied.

Alexander stepped closer and looked him in the eye. “What’s going on, Art?” he asked softly.

Arthur broke his gaze. His brother calling him “Art” caught him off guard. “Art” had been a childhood nickname only his three older brothers called him when he seemed upset, or when they were the bearers of bad news, or when they were trying to console him for whatever reason. There were never any positive memories that he could think of to associate the name with. Needless to say, it did not make him feel any better now.

When he didn’t answer, Alexander said, “You’ve done a complete one-eighty in the past month. You did not take the news well at all when we gave you the diagnosis, even when we gave you the best case scenario, and now, it seems like you don't even care. Are you in denial? Is that why you are acting this way? Because it is perfectly normal to go through a period of denial in a situation like yours, but you aren’t doing yourself any favors. If something has changed, you need to tell me.”

“I hear you. And I’ll see you, _as my Healer_ ,” Arthur enunciated, “at my appointment next month.”

Alexander frowned. Arthur turned around to face the mirror. As he was about to open the door, Alexander turned around.

"One more thing," Alexander said. Arthur looked at him in the mirror. “I think you should tell our brothers. You know how hard it hit all of us when we suddenly lost Bilius - I'm not saying that’s going to happen to you,” he added hastily. “But since we know virtually nothing about this curse, it would probably be better if you told them, in case something does happen. It’s just something to think about.” With that, he left.

Arthur braced himself on the cool, ceramic countertop and stared down into the sink. When Bilius died, it had hit them hard. It was one of the hardest times in Arthur’s life. Even though he stopped going to the bar with Bilius and Trenton all the time when Percy was born, the three of them were still better than best friends. And since all seven brothers shared a close bond forged in an unfortunate home life, he knew none of the others had taken this unexpected death well either. Seven years later and Bilius’s absence was still felt keenly among them. Arthur could never intentionally do that to his brothers...but he couldn’t bear telling them about his situation, and if Alexander managed to treat it, then he would have needlessly worried them; he had already seen Neil upset in regard to his health on more than one occasion recently, and even though Ian seemed to accept his answer of “I’m fine” on his first morning at their grandparents’ house, he could tell Ian was more concerned than he let on. Which would be worse: agonizing over something that might not happen for years or decades, or being unprepared for another death? Besides, he was already getting rather annoyed with Molly, Alexander, and his grandparents always fretting over him; he would probably explode if even more people started doing that as well.

Arthur shook those thoughts from his head. He didn’t have to decide just yet, and he already had enough to worry about right now.

The door swung open again. Arthur glanced behind him to see Molly enter.

“M-Molly - What - What are - This is the men’s room,” he spluttered, fully facing her.

“I know, but no one is in here and I’ve locked the door.” She cupped his cheeks with her hands and looked searchingly into his eyes for a moment before asking, “Why won’t you let Alexander make sure nothing is wrong? This is the third time I’m aware of that something like this has happened.”

Arthur stepped back. Molly’s hands slid off his face. “I’m done discussing this,” he said evenly.

“No, you’re not - because you haven’t discussed it with me at all.”

Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Do you not care what happens to you?” Molly asked, brow furrowed.

“Of course I do.”

“Well, it wasn’t long ago that you didn’t, and apparently that’s not the first time. I just - I need you to tell me if you feel that way again.”

“Okay, I will. But I’m happy right now. I’m enjoying my job. I have my family back. I have my life back.” He took her hands in his and looked into her beautiful, brown eyes. “I have you.”

“Well, why won’t you let Alex-”

“Because there’s no reason for it,” he interrupted calmly. “It can wait a month.”

“You don’t know that,” she said, voice quavering slightly. Her grip tightened on his hands.

“Yes, I do. I can tell when it’s the curse,” he told her. And, yes, he could tell when the curse became active, but he wasn’t going to openly admit that that’s what had been going on. “Now, can we please be done with this? I don't feel like talking anymore.”

“Can you tell me one more thing?”

“What’s that?” Arthur asked. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, bracing himself for the inevitable question about Halloween.

“Why did you lie, not only to me but to everyone, about when you stopped drinking?”

“I did stop after Percy’s wedding, and Halloween was the only time since then,” he answered honestly.

“But _why_?”

A long moment passed before Arthur answered. “I was weak,” he quietly admitted with a miniscule shrug. “You know how family gatherings are at my grandparents’. They kept the drinking confined to the basement for the most part, but it was still too much for me. That time, I didn’t spiral, but I didn’t help myself any either. I just made it that much harder for me to quit.”

“You’ve been lying this whole time. I thought I could trust you again.”

He made sure to look her in the eye. “You can,” he reassured. “I’m not going to try justifying my dishonesty, but will you let me explain?”

When Molly didn’t say anything either way, he took that as her permission. If she didn’t want to hear it, she would have said so.

“I was ashamed of myself. I had already let everyone down so many times. I thought maybe it would be better if no one knew. And I’ve not only been lying to everyone around me, but I’ve been lying to myself as well. I thought if I pretended it didn’t happen, then it didn’t. It was one night. It was one little mistake. I thought…if you saw – if _anyone_ saw that I could pick up a drink again after what I did at Percy’s wedding –” He broke eye contact and decided to look at the floor instead. “– then you’d all believe I was hopeless.”

“Oh, love,” Molly breathed. She lifted his chin with her forefinger so he was forced to look into her eyes again. “I don’t think that. And no one else should either because you have already proven that’s not the case.”

The corner of Arthur’s mouth quirked upward. She pulled him down by the chin and met him halfway to plant a kiss on his lips.

When they got back to the waiting room, Gran and Stuart were back and two more of his uncles were now missing. Neither Trenton nor Ian had returned. It wasn’t much longer before Gramps’s brothers went home for a good night’s sleep. It took everyone else there to convince Gran to go home; two of her other sons went with her while Stuart and Arthur’s two youngest uncles stayed at the hospital. Alexander and Margaret went home as well, so he could be rested for work. Arthur, Neil, Desmond, and Paulene spent the night at St. Mungo’s. It was nearly impossible for Arthur to get Molly to go home because he refused to go with her, but he finally convinced her late into the night and she promised she would be back first thing in the morning.


	40. Uncertain Outcomes: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here y’all go, Chapter 40! I initially intended for the next chapter to be part of this one, but it ended up being the length of Chapter 30, so I broke it in two. With that being said, the next chapter is completely written and only has some revision to be done, so I will have it up in a few days, at most.
> 
> I’m really loving getting to explore Arthur’s brothers and past more in these chapters. I hope y’all are enjoying getting to know them.

Early Thursday morning, Ian was the first to return. Things were okay between him and Arthur since the argument the previous evening was primarily between Trenton and Arthur. Molly showed up not long after, keeping her promise and bringing two dozen ham and cheese croissants with her for whoever wanted one. When Gran arrived with the two sons who had gone home with her the night before, Ian barely gave her a chance to come through the door before he was standing in front of her. Arthur couldn’t help but overhear Ian’s sincere apology. As always, Gran was quick to forgive. Not everyone who had been there the first three days were there all day Thursday, but they, along with other relatives, stopped in periodically throughout the day.

That evening, a very bemused “M-Minister Shacklebolt?” brought everyone’s attention to the tall, black wizard who had just entered the private waiting room. The various Weasley relatives fell silent.

“Oh, hello, Kingsley,” Gran greeted.

“Irene,” Kingsley’s low voice rumbled. He offered a sympathetic smile. “I can’t tell you how sorry I was to hear of Costin’s accident.”

Arthur wondered when Kingsley and his grandparents got on a first-name basis. The only time he’d ever seen them in the same vicinity was at Percy’s wedding. He made a mental note to ask later, but it really wasn’t that important.

“Yes,” Gran said. “Well, all we can do now is wait.”

“I do hope he gets better soon,” Kingsley said sincerely.

“Thank you.”

Kingsley made his way to the far side of the room where Arthur and Molly sat. He hugged Molly and shook Arthur’s hand before taking a seat himself. The other occupants of the room returned to their own conversations.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” Molly asked first and foremost. “Let me fix you a plate.”

“Molly, that’s not necessary,” Kingsley chuckled. Molly was always trying to feed someone. “I don’t want to impose. I can –“

“Nonsense! There’s plenty of food left,” she countered before bustling off to the small, short tables holding the takeaway containers.

“What, no Aurors on protection detail today?” Arthur asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I told them to wait in the hall. How have you –“

“Don’t ask me that,” Arthur calmly but quickly cut him off, crossing his arms. He didn’t mean to be rude and he knew Kingsley was genuinely concerned, being a good friend, but Arthur still hated it when people asked how he was, especially when the answer was so obviously negative. Not to mention, he wasn’t in that great of a mood anyway. Ask him on a good day and he couldn’t be happier to tell you, but when things weren’t going well, not so much.

Kingsley cleared his throat. “When I noticed you hadn’t been at work in a few days, I went to your department and Perkins told me you left Monday due to what seemed like an emergency and that he hadn’t heard from you since. I was afraid you’d gone off and done something –“

“Stupid?”

“I was going to say regrettable, but yours works, too – Then I saw your brother, Neil, at work this afternoon and he told me what happened and that you’ve been here.”

“I’m sorry, Kingsley. I should’ve sent an owl. It completely slipped my mind.”

“That’s understandable.”

Molly returned with a heaping plate of curry and handed it to Kingsley. Friendly conversation ensued as he ate, most of which consisted of him asking about their anniversary trip. This proved a welcome distraction for Arthur. Pretty much all he had been able to think about the past few days was Gramps and the events that led to them being there. Reflecting on their recent vacation helped bring him out of those negative thoughts.

After visiting a while, Kingsley said, “Molly, would you give us a few minutes please? Arthur and I have some business to discuss.”

When Molly was out of earshot, Arthur lowered his voice and said, “Let me guess, this is about the amount of work I’ve missed.”

“It is,” Kingsley admitted before casting _Muffliato_. “I understand some things are unavoidable and I know you don’t take off work without good reason, but you have fallen very far behind in your responsibilities and have been slacking when you have been at work recently. Is there any particular reason for that? Is there anything I need to know?”

Arthur scratched at four days’ worth of stubble on his chin as he thought back on the past few months. When he first took on the job, he quite literally buried himself in work, especially after Ginny went back to Hogwarts and even more so after he finally quit drinking. Then when he and Molly got back together, everything took a backseat to fixing his marriage and his relationship with his children. It wasn’t just that, though; the trouble sleeping and new stress brought on by the recent diagnosis surely impaired his work as well.

“No, I’m sorry. I will get back on top of things and get caught up,” he assured. “You have my word.”

Kingsley studied him for a long moment. He had no doubts that Arthur would get caught up, but he got the feeling the older man was holding something back. Deciding he would tell him if it was truly important, Kingsley shrugged and left it at that. “Alright. Look, I don’t want to sound like anything is more important than family, but do you have an idea of when you’ll be back at work? Tomorrow, maybe? Monday?”

“Honestly, that’s been the last thing on my mind. And I really don’t want to leave. So, what if I brought some work here? Would that be okay?”

“As long as something is getting done. And I don’t see why Perkins can’t oversee the department meetings tomorrow and Monday if he’s okay with it. I do need you back sometime next week, though.”

Arthur nodded his understanding. He did not, however, make any verbal commitment. A week was a long time away. If something came up and he couldn’t come back to work just yet, he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

**oOoOo**

Friday went much the same way as Thursday. The biggest difference was that Arthur Flooed over to the Ministry first thing and stuck several, thick stacks of paperwork into his briefcase. At the hospital, he turned his little corner into a makeshift office. Since there wasn’t enough room to transfigure any furniture, he had papers scattered across chairs in a form of organized chaos and used his briefcase as a table. He worked almost nonstop all day, only breaking for lunch and dinner when Molly forced him to.

That night, after most people had gone home, including Molly, Arthur’s concentration was broken once again when someone plucked the quill out of his hand in the midst of writing. When he looked up, Charlie was looking around at his little “office” with a mixture of amusement and concern, the quill dangling from between his fingertips.

Pointing at the quill, Arthur said, “I need that.”

“Maybe you should call it a night, Dad,” Charlie suggested.

“I need to at least finish this,” Arthur replied, gesturing to the paper on the makeshift table in his lap.

Charlie handed the quill back and found an empty chair, careful not to knock anything off the ones Arthur was using.

Watching his dad as he worked, Charlie noticed a few things he hadn’t when he’d stopped by the day before: The reappearance of facial hair reminded him of the rare occasions he’d seen Arthur when he’d been drinking so heavily in the fall, the main difference this time being that it was unkempt. Arthur’s drawn, pale face and the dark circles under his eyes made it clear he hadn’t been sleeping well, if at all, and was much more anxious than he let on. Charlie didn’t fully understand why Arthur was in this condition. Sure, this was a terrible situation and Charlie knew his dad was extremely close with Gramps, but no one else seemed to have this reaction, except maybe Desmond, but even he had gone home. Things didn’t add up.

When Arthur came to a stopping point, he set what was in his lap onto the floor and stood. Several joints popped as he stretched.

“Come on, let’s get some tea,” he told Charlie.

They made their way upstairs in a comfortable silence. By the time they reached the tearoom, Arthur changed his mind and decided to have a strong, plain, black coffee instead; he knew he shouldn’t and he’d had more than a perfectly healthy person should the past few days, but no one was there to tell him he couldn’t and he needed the energy the caffeine provided no matter how short-lived. Once they had their hot beverages, they found two plush armchairs in the corner of the nearly deserted tearoom.

“Your mum send you?” Arthur quietly inquired.

“Well…yeah,” Charlie confessed. His mum didn’t force him to check on his dad; he had volunteered after they had a brief discussion when she walked him and his siblings out after their visit. The responsibility should not always lie with Bill. Besides, maybe this would help mend his relationship with his dad. “Mum’s worried about you – We all are.”

There was no denying anything. Arthur knew he looked like hell. Molly had brought him his toothbrush and a change of clothes, but he hadn’t shaved and the little sleep he got was far from restful.

“Why won’t you go home?” Charlie asked outright.

Arthur frowned. “Tell you what; I’ll answer your question if you answer mine.”

“Fair enough.”

“Am I the reason you didn’t go back to Romania?” he asked, a question that had been nagging him for longer than he’d like to admit.

The former dragon trainer hesitated briefly, taken aback by his father’s question. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. “Um…yeah. Partially. I mean, I was on the fence about it, but the way you were acting is what really helped make the decision.”

“Son, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you from doing what you love.”

“Dad, I’m happy,” Charlie interrupted. “This is the most I’ve been around family in years. If anything, you helped me make the right decision. Yes, I’ve dreamt of working with dragons for as long as I can remember – and I got to live that dream – and I miss it. But now is not the time for that. The dragon reserve isn’t going anywhere, so if I decide I want to go back, I’ll be able to. But I was reminded recently – and rather forcefully – that family isn’t forever. Someone who’s here today may be gone tomorrow.”

Charlie was about to repeat his question, but stopped when Arthur sighed.

“You know, what you did for your mother,” he said, looking his son in the eye, “I’m proud of you for that.”

With a small shrug, Charlie said, “It wasn’t a good situation. I just did what I thought was best.”

“Still, it couldn’t have been easy. I wish I had been brave enough to do that for my mum,” Arthur confessed.

The significance of that statement was lost on Charlie. While all of Arthur’s children knew they weren’t allowed to see their grandfather because he was an alcoholic, they never knew there was a much more serious reason behind it. It surprised Arthur that none of them asked why their parents didn’t find issue with their Uncles Bilius and Trent being around when, as far as they knew, their uncles were the same way as Grandpa Septimus. Just as well, that was something you don’t tell your children without extreme discretion and was a discussion Arthur really did not want to have.

In fact, his children were so disconnected form that situation most of them spent many years believing Gran was their grandmother and Arthur’s mother, it not quite clicking that she couldn’t be their dad’s mum when she was their Grandpa Septimus’s mum. Then, one year when Arthur was taking flowers to place on his mother’s grave, Charlie overheard and wanted to tag along ( _“I’m taking these to Mum, Molly, and I’ll be right back.”; “Can I go, Dad?”_ ). When they Apparated into a cemetery instead of Gran and Gramps’s farm, Arthur had to explain to a very confused and somewhat disappointed ten-year-old Charlie that Gran was not his mother, his mother had passed away a very long time ago. Arthur had no one to blame but himself, though; he never talked about his mum and never thought it necessary to explain to his kids how they were related to Gran and Gramps.

“It probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference,” Charlie tried to console, “because didn’t Grandma pass away when you were in school, anyway?”

“It could have made a world of difference. You don’t know how she died, do you?”

“I figured she was ill.”

“No, she – uh…fell,” Arthur said, choosing his words carefully, not wanting to push his speculations on his son, “down some stairs.”

“You couldn’t have helped that.”

“There are a lot of skeletons in the Weasley family closet that you don’t know about.”

“Well, why don’t you tell me about this one then?” Charlie asked, genuinely interested. “I’m in no rush.”

Arthur thought long and hard on this as he drank his coffee. There were some things your children did not need to know and this was a place he hated going, but Charlie asked and he was old enough to hear the truth. With how rocky their relationship had been over previous months, Arthur didn’t want Charlie to think he was deliberately hiding something from him either. But if Charlie knew, that might cause him to become wary of his father again. Arthur figured he’d take a chance.

“You have to swear not to tell anyone,” he said.

“Even Bill?”

“Well…Bill’s okay. But not even he knows everything. What he knows barely scratches the surface.” Arthur took another moment to figure out the best way to begin. “Have you ever wondered why your mother and I never had a problem with your uncles, but strictly forbade you to be around your grandfather?” he asked.

“When I got older, I found it a bit strange, contradictory even. Bill said you and Grandpa didn’t get along well and that he wasn’t that great of a person.”

Arthur scoffed. “That’s the understatement of the millennium.”

After taking another sip of coffee, he rested the nearly empty cup on his knee. Instead of looking back at his son, he stared at the paper cup as he spoke quietly. “My father was…extremely abusive. In my first eighteen years – into my twenties even – I had more bruises, broken bones, black eyes, and bloody noses than there are bones in my body” – Okay, that may have been an exaggeration, but Arthur wouldn’t be surprised if it was true – “and only a handful of those were accidents or Quidditch-related injuries. My father never even needed a reason. He would get angry over the tiniest, most insignificant things.” Finally, he looked over at Charlie. “That’s why we never wanted you kids around him; why I’m so close with Gran and Gramps and my brothers; why I didn’t go to my father’s funeral or visit him when he was in here; why, while your mother loves talking about her childhood, I rarely talk about mine – You’ve probably heard more about that period in my life from stories your great-grandparents and uncles have told.” He made sure to tread carefully with this last part. “And there are circumstances that make some of us think that your grandmother didn’t just trip and fall down the stairs. But I guess that’s something we’ll never know for certain.”

Shocked was an understatement for how Charlie felt at this revelation. He had absolutely no clue his dad had gone through any of that. It did explain a good bit, though.

After a momentary loss of speech, he said, “Dad, I – I’m sorry. If I knew it was something like that, I never would have asked. You didn’t have to tell me any of that.”

“I know.”

Neither father nor son spoke for a while, sipping their drinks in silence.

“I didn’t always want to have kids, you know?” Arthur confessed quietly, picking at the brim of his empty cup. “In fact, I was adamantly against the idea. Your mum helped change my mind, and since the moment I found out I was going to be a father, I strived to be the complete opposite of mine. I looked to Gramps as a role model. I went to him for advice. I still made mistakes, but that’s to be expected. And I still needed constant reassuring. Last year…I feel like I failed. Like part of me still viewed that aggressive, drunken behavior as normal and acceptable. I knew what I was doing, though, and I knew it was wrong. But…” He sighed. “I don’t know.”

Charlie came to his defense without hesitation. “Dad, you’re a fantastic father, always have been. Last year, you were just…spread too thin. You went back to work and were dealing with your own grief while helping nine other people deal with theirs. I’m sure it was easier to find a way to avoid all that.”

“You’re attitude sure has changed.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve had some time to think.”

“Your actions were justified and I am proud of you, but it still hurt, seeing how easy it was for you and Ron and your mum to drop me like that – like I was nothing to you.”

“Ron and I were acting on our tempers more than anything. Honestly, I was using my anger to avoid how I was really feeling. And it wasn’t easy for Mum, Dad. She was a complete mess even though she tried hiding it.”

Arthur rubbed his face with his empty hand. “I hate that I put you all through that.”

“Well, that’s – uh – that’s in the past now.” Charlie said. “Right?”

Nodding, Arthur sighed, “Yeah, it is.”

“So, how come you won’t go home?” Charlie repeated his earlier question.

It took a moment before Arthur answered, knowing his son most likely would not have a good reaction to his response. But he knew honesty was key at this point. “I’m afraid I’m gonna drink if I leave. As long as I’m here, in the hospital, I’m safe. Once I step outside or into the Floo, there are no guarantees. I almost had Neil get my work for me today. That’s how scared I am.”

He braced himself for another shift in attitude from his son, a scathing remark or a scornful judgement, but none came. Instead, Charlie remained calm and asked, “Have you told Mum this?”

“I’ve not told anyone.”

“You ought to tell Mum.”

“That’ll only worry her.”

“She’s already worried. If you tell her, she’ll probably be less worried because she won’t have to guess what the problem is.”

“I’ll talk to her in the morning,” Arthur finally conceded.

Before heading back downstairs, Arthur bought another coffee. Charlie checked if his dad would be alright or if he wanted him to stay as well. After he said he would be fine, Charlie departed to go to his own house and Arthur returned to his work.

**oOoOo**

Sometime after two in the morning, Arthur still had his nose buried in paperwork while two of his uncles and Ian slept (his uncles had been taking turns, but he figured Ian stayed out of guilt) when Trenton stumbled in smelling like a distillery and cigarette smoke. Breathing in deeply, Arthur immediately stopped writing, closed his eyes, and savored the smell. He held his breath for several seconds before letting out an explosive breath. He shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the intrusive thoughts that brought themselves to the forefront of his mind.

“Good, you’re still here, li’l brother,” Trenton slurred. “Li’l Artie – Little Artie Art.” He put extreme effort into enunciating the last three words before breaking out into a fit of laughter. Arthur, however, was not amused.

“Go home, Trent, you’re drunk.”

“No – No, we – you an’ me” – Trenton pointed to himself then to Arthur – “we need t’ talk.” He leaned forward and braced himself on the back of a chair stacked high with papers. Both he and the chair went crashing to the floor, the contents of the chair scattering in all directions. The other three men in the room stirred. Arthur rolled his eyes and shook his head in exasperation. After emptying his lap, he rubbed his face and stood.

“Alright, Trent?” he asked, holding a hand out for his older brother.

With Arthur’s help, Trenton got to his feet. His face lit up like it was the first time he’d seen him and they hadn’t had a big row a few days ago. “Hey! I’s jus’ lookin’ for you.”

“You don’t say.”

Clapping Arthur on the shoulder, Trenton continued, “Yup, we – w-w-we – we have t’ talk. Right now – Wait.” He facepalmed and stared wide-eyed at Arthur. “We should’ve talked two days ago.”

“Hey, Trent, we can talk in the morning, alright?” Arthur spoke slowly so it was more likely Trenton would understand. Nevertheless, Trenton kept trying to start the conversation while Arthur led him to some empty seats and got him situated, his feet propped up and a conjured blanket placed on top of him. He placed a couple charms over the area as well to conceal the strong smell of alcohol and muffle any noise that may come from his brother.

Arthur sat beside Trenton while he listened to his incoherent ramblings and waited for him to fall asleep. He wondered if this was what Trenton’s late wife, Kathleen, had to put up with their entire marriage – Probably not. When Arthur went out with his two older brothers, he couldn’t recall Trenton ever being this bad. According to Neil, Trenton had completely gone off the rails after Kathleen was killed, an innocent bystander, by Death Eaters in ’96. Whether it was guilt for flirting with other women on a regular basis even though he never actually cheated on Kathleen and being an absent husband and father or if it was just his way of dealing with his grief, he never told anyone. One thing was for certain, though; he took his playboy lifestyle to an all new level after losing his wife.

Finally, Trenton passed out midsentence. He never actually got to what he and Arthur needed to talk about, but Arthur thought he knew.

When Arthur returned to his seat, he couldn’t help wondering if Trenton had a flask on him. Again, the answer was “Probably not.” Trenton had always been a social drinker, going to bars or inviting people over. Most holidays and special occasions with the Weasleys meant there would be alcohol. So it was pointless, really, for Trenton to even own a flask. That was just as well for Arthur; the temptation had been removed without even being there in the first place. The hospital remained safe, though Trenton’s presence did not help any.

Thankful for the twenty-four hour service of the tearoom, Arthur decided to go up for what must have been his sixth cup of coffee that night. When he got back, he tried to distract himself with paperwork until Molly returned a few hours later.


	41. Uncertain Outcomes: Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy Saturday!
> 
> I hope y’all stay safe from these upcoming tropical storms!
> 
> Please leave a review!

Of course, Gran and the son who had spent the night with her the previous night were the first to arrive the next morning. Then Arthur’s other aunts and uncles trickled in. Gramps’s brothers and sisters-in-law were next. Neil strode in carrying a large, ancient tome, which, from the binding, contained information on every known Dark wizard and all curses created from the 11th century through the 15th century. Molly, Alexander, Margaret, Elaine, and Paulene arrived a bit later than usual, laden down with paper bags because they met up and went in together to buy a massive breakfast spread (today, the Healer was supposed to lift the magically-induced coma Gramps was in, but it could still be another day or two before he woke up; with that and it being a Saturday, there was no telling how many relatives would show up and when). Desmond arrived with his and Ian’s daughters not long after breakfast came in, not having anyone to babysit since both of their wives were at the hospital along with everyone else; the girls were easily occupied for a while by their children’s crosswords, word searches, and coloring books. Trenton, however, was still passed out, a new charm over him to cover the odor of alcohol but not one to muffle any noise.

Arthur strained to hear his brothers over the other voices in the room as Neil passed the tome off to Alexander.

“Sorry, it took a couple days to get approved,” Neil said.

“No problem,” Alexander assured. “I would have gotten it myself, but I’ve not had time to go by the Ministry this week.”

“What d’ya need it for anyway?”

“Just some research,” Alexander said with a wave.

“You got a tough case?”

“It’s…perplexing.”

“Are you able to talk about it?” Neil asked, intrigued. Sometimes Alexander talked about cases he had, without disclosing too much information or the patient’s name of course. What Healer or Auror didn’t? But Arthur knew he wouldn’t say anything this time – It would be too obvious..

“Just that we’ve not seen anything like it before.”

“It’s not something from the Dark wizards who are still loose, is it?”

“No, it’s nothing to worry about anymore.”

“Ah, from the war then?”

Alexander tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow as way of affirmation. It was obvious to Arthur that he made a deliberate effort not to look in his direction, but it was difficult to tell if Neil noticed since he, Arthur, didn’t have a full view of his face.

“Anyone we know?”

Rubbing behind his left ear, Alexander said, “You _know_ I can’t tell you that.”

Neil did notice this. Whenever Alexander rubbed behind his left ear, he was either anxious or keeping something from them. With knit brows and narrowed eyes, Neil asked, “Who is it?”

Apparently realizing his mistake, Alexander crossed his arms and firmly tucked his hands beneath them. “I didn’t say we knew him.” His eyes flicked to Arthur when he said this.

“Him?” Neil said slowly before following where Alexander’s eyes had darted. Arthur pretended he had been watching the women unpack breakfast instead of watching them. He should have known it would only be a matter of time before someone figured it out, especially with how much time the family had been spending together in close proximity the past several days. “Arthur, c’mere!”

Not a second after he joined them, Neil pointed at the book in Alexander’s lap and asked, “Do you know what this is about?”

Reading the cover upside down, Arthur said, “ _Dark Wizards, Cursed Objects, and Curses: 1001-1500_ – That’s more Alexander’s department than mine.”

“Do you know what he’s doing with it?” Neil rephrased impatiently.

Arthur shrugged. “No. Should I?” Of course, he hated lying to his brothers, but this didn’t feel quite like a lie. He suspected Alexander was using it for research on his case, but he didn’t know for sure.

Neil peered at him for several long seconds. Arthur kept a straight, blank face. When Neil’s gaze fell to the scars on his neck, he unconsciously reached up and rubbed at them.

“Why do you do that?” Neil asked suddenly.

“What?” Arthur swallowed hard. His heart beat faster.

Neil nodded to the hand on Arthur’s neck and mimicked the action.

Hastily removing his hand, Arthur abruptly looked away, his cheeks burning. “It makes me uncomfortable when people stare,” he said, effectively putting an end to the conversation and his younger brother’s questioning.

Arthur went back to his corner. As soon as Molly took her seat beside him, he told her what he’d told Charlie the night before. If he waited, he would’ve reasoned himself out of telling her. This, indeed, did relieve her worries, although she was still concerned. She asked him if he needed to go to a meeting, but he refused, saying he didn’t want to leave on such an important day and that these cravings might ease up once things got better.

“Did you at least get any sleep last night?’ she asked, eyeing the piles of paperwork spread around him. His appearance should have been answer enough.

He scratched the back of his head. “Er – No – Don’t give me that look.”

“You get less sleep each night you’re here. You need to come home tonight. And if you are that afraid you’ll drink if you leave, then I’ll just tie you to the bed,” she teased.

A mischievous smirk appeared on his face, and he waggled his eyebrows. “Really now?”

Rolling her eyes, she playfully slapped his arm. “Get your head out of the gutter.”

“Pardon me. It’s more difficult than you might think, seeing you every day” – he leaned in close – “and not being able to do a damn thing about it,” he growled into her ear before nipping it, sending an excited shiver down her spine and blood rushing to her cheeks. He let out a soft chuckle. “Not so easy, now is it?” 

Molly cleared her throat. “Well, that’s because someone refuses to come home.”

“We don’t need a bed and we both know you’re not afraid of the men’s room.”

“I am not –” she exclaimed, too indignant to finish the sentence. “How could you even suggest such a thing?”

He held his hands up in defense. “Alright, calm down. I’m only joking.” He then added under his breath, “We were great at finding nooks and crannies all over Hogwarts.”

“Well, we aren’t at Hogwarts anymore, are we? Besides, you need your rest more than anything.”

“The only reason I didn’t sleep last night was because Trent showed up.” He jerked his head in the direction of his still-sleeping brother.

“Has no one seen him since the other night?”

“He’s been at work, according to Neil and Ian.”

“Did you two work things out?”

“No. He couldn’t even form sentences.”

Little Louisa wandered over then, her pigtails bouncing with every step. “Uncle Artie, can you open this for me?” she asked, holding out a juice box.

He smiled at her. “Yes, but what do you say?”

“Oh – Please?” She smiled ear to ear.

He chuckled. “I was going for a ‘good morning,’ but ‘please’ is nice, too.”

“Good morning!” She batted her long lashes at him before turning to Molly. “Good morning, Aunt Molly!”

They both told her “Good morning” as well then Arthur took the juice box from her.

“Did your mummy and daddy say you can have this now?” he asked, looking over at Paulene and Desmond, who were busy making plates for the girls.

Louisa nodded vigorously. Her pigtails flew in all directions.

Wanting to make sure, Arthur called over to Desmond and asked. Desmond said she was allowed it and thanked him for opening it for her. Arthur was a bit surprised his youngest brother hadn’t said anything to him about the girls since his outburst the other night. He actually didn’t seem that upset with him at all. Perhaps Desmond’s resentments had been redirected at yet another brother, most likely Trenton. None of Arthur’s brothers were too happy with Trenton after his recent behavior, actually.

After poking the straw into the juice box, Arthur handed it back to his niece. She began to ramble on about how much fun she had getting to stay with her Uncle Ian and Aunt Elaine earlier in the week even though Penelope and Marie played together most of the time.

Trenton stirred a few feet away and groaned.

Arthur prepared himself to cover Louisa’s ears. He was right to do so because that’s what he had to do a few seconds later when a whiny “Fucking hell!” came from his older brother.

“Uh – Trent, you have nieces present,” Arthur alerted him, hands still firmly placed on either side of Louisa’s head. She looked between them cluelessly with big, brown eyes she’d inherited from her father.

“Oh, sorry,” Trenton mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his head.

Satisfied Trenton wasn’t going to say anything else inappropriate, Arthur removed his hands. Paulene called Louisa back to their seats for breakfast.

Trenton flinched when he went to rest his chin on his hand.

“You hit the floor with your face last night,” Arthur informed.

Trenton groaned again.

Meanwhile, Molly rummaged through her handbag. She pulled out a vial of Hangover Potion and gave it to Trenton, who gratefully downed it in one. Arthur picked up the vial of Sober-Up Potion that was sticking out of her bag. While Trenton was grateful, Arthur was hurt by this, not because he wanted his brother to suffer, but because his wife still felt the need to carry those potions around, like she didn’t trust him or have faith in him even though she kept telling him she did.

How he felt must have been written on his face plain as day because when she turned back to him, she said, “Oh, love, I’m sorry. I carry those around just in case. It – It just makes me feel better to have them.” She cupped his prickly cheek, but his gaze lingered on the purple potion in his hand. “Please don’t take it the wrong way.”

He forced a tight smile and put the vial back. “Of course not.” Molly had a slew of good reasons for carrying those potions around, he supposed. After how many times he failed, he couldn’t blame her for keeping those on hand. It still didn’t hurt any less, though.

“Why don’t I get us some breakfast?” she suggested brightly, kissing his cheek as she stood.

A minute later, Trenton took Molly’s seat next to Arthur.

“I’m sorry about the other night. I didn’t mean anything I said,” Trenton apologized, staring at his hands while picking at the skin around his fingernails.

“You must have meant some of it. Otherwise you wouldn’t have said it.”

“No, Arthur, I didn’t. I was upset and angry and in an altogether bad mood. You were the first person I saw, so I took it out on you. Although, it didn’t help that you had me pinned to the wall,” he added under his breath.

The tips of Arthur’s ears burned with embarrassment. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“I’m gonna be frank here,” Trenton said before choosing his words carefully. “Recently, out of the six of us, your behavior has been most reminiscent of Septimus’s.” He finally looked his younger brother in the eye. “But you are still _nothing_ like him. I don’t think anyone could be like him. And I shouldn’t have said anything about your separation. I know how terrible you feel about all of that.

“By attacking you and tearing you down I was trying to take the attention off myself, especially when Neil said this was my fault. I’ve never taken anything seriously in my life – hell, I didn’t even take my marriage or my kids seriously – so this is just something else that happened because I failed to take responsibility…only, this time, it could kill someone,” Trenton finished quietly.

“It’s my fault Gramps is in here. None of us would’ve been out there in the first place if I hadn’t gotten drunk.”

“How about this? We’ll share the blame.”

Arthur snorted. “Alright.”

Neither said anything else for a short while, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Guilt burned in Arthur’s stomach. While Trenton did play a part in the events that led to Gramps being in St. Mungo’s, Arthur couldn’t let him take an ounce of the blame. This was ultimately on him. Gran still didn’t know what happened, in the waiting room or on Halloween (when Trenton abruptly left and didn’t come back, they told her he was called away on a major case with the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad). Merlin, Arthur still hadn’t figured out how he was going to tell her it was his fault; he’d been stewing on it for days. What would she and Gramps say? They were very forgiving people, but to what extent?

Trenton’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. “I know Gran and Gramps did everything they could for us,” he said softly. “I wasn’t thinking clearly and what she said felt like too little too late at the moment – And you were kind of right about something else.” He returned his attention to his hands and took a deep breath. “Since I lost Kat, I usually just go home after work and open a bottle. I only go to the bar or pub on weekends, and Neil only goes with me once a week. The house is so quiet and empty without her and with all the kids grown…Sometimes I go to Gran and Gramps’s for dinner, as you know, but I’m not sure how much it helps. I still go back to an empty house – well, when you were there, it was a little better, since you stay up later than they do. I could talk to you for a while, then go home and go to bed.”

“I wish you’d said something sooner. I know Molly and I have been busy the past few years, but you know you’re always welcome at the Burrow. Come by for dinner. Hang out. Even if I’m stuck with work or something, you can still come over and – I don’t know – read a magazine or listen to the wireless or something – ya know, enjoy the company. I know Molly could use some when I’m late at the Ministry.”

Trenton nodded. “Yeah – That sounds nice…Listen” – his and Arthur’s blue eyes met again – “no more secrets, alright? Not between us.”

“Yeah…No more secrets,” Arthur echoed without much enthusiasm. The guilt from keeping such a major secret from his brothers, especially Trenton, continued to mount. Whether he had yet to tell them was for their benefit or his, it was still unclear. Since Alexander felt he should tell them, maybe it was more for his benefit. But what benefit would be gained? Perhaps his dishonesty and secrecy was more out of cowardice than anything else. What kind of Gryffindor was he, to be afraid to inform those who loved him of a potentially life-threatening affliction he’d gotten from fighting in a war?

In an attempt to ease his guilt by revealing another, yet not-so-serious, secret, Arthur cleared his throat and said, “Hey, Trent, I’d appreciate it if you don’t drink around me. I’m – uh – having to get help for it. That’s what the meeting was that Ian was talking about Monday. And you put me in a tough spot last night.”

“Oh, okay, yeah. I didn’t realize it was that big of a problem for you. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for pressuring you before. I got excited, thinking I had my old drinking buddy back because, let’s face it, the past twenty-some-odd years, you’ve not been as much fun, only having two or three drinks max when you do go out. And Neil’s great and all, but it’s not the same as going out with you and Bilius back in the old days.”

The conversation dissolved again. Molly returned with not two but three plates. She passed Arthur and Trenton each one before sitting on the other side of her husband.

The morning dragged on. More relatives came and went. A steady buzz of conversations filled the air. Trenton went home to clean up, but soon returned. Arthur put his work away while Alexander began to make his way through the ancient tome, reading glasses perched on his nose. Marie, Penelope, and Louisa grew bored with their activity books and ventured off to their various aunts and uncles in search of other entertainment. Gran had only been allowed in to see Gramps for a half hour before rejoining her family so the Healers could work.

Around lunchtime, Arthur’s stomach rumbled. He went over to the tables in search of any food left over from breakfast. Most of it was gone – a few scraps of bacon, half a sausage, and three doughnuts remained. When he picked up a jam doughnut and was about to take a bite, Molly snatched it out of his hand. He looked at her with raised brows.

“I can’t have a doughnut?” he asked.

“No, especially not one with jam; they’re not good for you. The kids are bringing lunch in a while anyway.”

This little exchange caught Neil’s attention nearby.

Trenton walked past and plucked the doughnut from Molly’s hand. “Seems like someone doesn’t want you getting flabby again.” He smirked and took a bite out of the doughnut. Some jam got caught in his well-groomed beard.

“You know what, Trent? You can take that doughnut and shove it,” Arthur said good-naturedly.

“Don’t you worry, I will – Shove it right into my mouth.” Trenton took another bite before sauntering off. From his seat, Neil continued to pay more attention to Arthur and Molly than to what one of his sons was telling him.

Arthur reached for another doughnut, glazed this time. Molly swatted his and away.

“Can I really not have a doughnut? Come on, it’s a _doughnut_. It’s not like I’m eating six.”

Molly arched an eyebrow.

Arthur held up a finger. “One time. _One_ time, I ate six doughnuts. One’s not going to hurt me,” he argued.

“How much coffee have you had this week?”

Abashed, he ducked his head. “Too much probably,” he said meekly.

Molly shot him a look that clearly said that was not an acceptable answer.

“Definitely too much,” he corrected.

“If you hadn’t drank so much coffee and had been sleeping well, I wouldn’t have a problem with you eating a doughnut. You’ve done very well eating healthy the past few weeks.”

“Exactly. So don’t I deserve some sort of reprieve?”

“Oh, it’s not like this is a punishment. You know what they told you; even though your lifestyle has been fine – well, except for that short stint last year,” she said as an aside before clearing her throat. “Anyway, even though you lifestyle hasn’t necessarily been unhealthy, taking care of yourself could help quite a bit – Oh, look, here are the kids.” And she left Arthur standing there as she bustled to greet the new arrivals.

At this point, Neil made his move. “Well, if you’re not going to, mind if I?” he asked as he approached.

“Help yourself,” Arthur said with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

Without preamble, Neil asked, “So what are you hiding form us?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re keeping something from us. I don’t know what it is or if Alexander is in on it, but there’s something you’re not telling us.”

“What if I am?”

“We don’t keep big secrets from each other. I understand now why you couldn’t tell us what happened when you nearly died a few years ago, but nothing is tying your hands anymore. What aren’t you telling us?”

“You’re not going to let this rest are you?”

“No, because I know something is wrong.”

“Fine. If you must know” – he lowered his voice – “I have some heart problems. But it’s nothing to worry about.” He figured if he told a partial truth, Neil would be satisfied and some of the guilt would leave him.

“Heart problems,” Neil repeated blankly.

Arthur gave a single nod.

“Can’t the Healers do anything? It seems like an easy fix.”

“It’s not to the point where they need to do anything, so right now, we’re taking preventative measures. If it became serious, then I would tell you all. There’s just no need to worry anyone, so I’d appreciate it if this could stay between the two of us. No one else knows, not even Trent.”

Neil thought on this for a long moment. Finally, he said, “Fine. As long as it’s not life-threatening, I don’t see what it could hurt.”

The all-too-familiar pang of guilt hit Arthur again. Instead of relieving his guilt, the half-truth was adding to it. He began to reason with himself. He reminded himself it was none of his brothers’ business anyway and he deserved some time to come to terms with his situation himself first. While they didn’t keep big secrets from one another, it wasn’t like any of them immediately told the others their big news anyway - Hell! No one knew Bilius had been hallucinating for two days or quit drinking until he claimed he saw the Grim. They all told him he was being ridiculous and had probably seen a big, black dog after a long night of drinking, but he assured them he quit drinking altogether. The next day, he died of a seizure.

Arthur had just sat down with Molly and their kids when the Healer came into the room and announced everything had gone smoothly and Gramps should wake up within a few hours; however, it could be as long as two days, but that chances of a full recovery would be slim if that were the case. After Gran spoke with the Healer privately, she gathered Arthur and his brothers to talk to them in the hall.

“He said the six of you are allowed to see your grandfather now,” she informed them. “But don’t say anything to your cousins; I don’t want any hurt feelings – Desmond, Arthur, would you two like to go in first?”

Desmond nodded vigorously, but Arthur took a step back, accidentally bumping into the wall. For days, he wanted to see Gramps, but now that he had the opportunity, he couldn’t bring himself to, knowing Gramps wouldn’t look anything like himself; the man in that bed would be frail and helpless.

He gulped. “Someone else can go. I-I’ll wait.”

Once Gran sent Ian with Desmond and the others went back to the private waiting room, Gran grabbed Arthur’s sleeve to stop him. With great reluctance, he faced her.

“I thought you’d be the first to want to see him, seeing as you’re the only person who hasn’t stepped foot outside of this hospital except when you absolutely had to.”

“Can’t I be the thoughtful older brother and let Ian and Neil see him first?”

“Of course you can, but that’s not the real reason, is it?” When he didn’t reply, she said, “It’s just the two of us here. You don’t have to put on a brave face for me.”

Arthur exhaled deeply through his nose, his lips pressed in a thin line, and shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “I don’t want to see him like that,” he admitted softly, avoiding his grandmother’s gaze.

She gave him a sympathetic look. “Okay. That’s fine,” she said with understanding. “But I would like you to do one thing for me: Go home and get some rest tonight. I hate seeing you this way.”

After a brief hesitation, he shrugged and said, “We’ll see.”

“Sweetheart, I appreciate your dedication, but there’s no need for you to stay here twenty-four seven. There is nothing anyone can do to help, and the Healer has lifted the visiting hours and said I can stay in his room with him overnight now.”

“I’m doing this for me, Gran. It’s better for me if I stay.”

Gran did not question him further.

**oOoOo**

Two days passed – Two more long days of waiting – Two more days where absolutely _nothing_ changed.

Late Monday night, the waiting room looked much the same as it had a week before. All of Arthur’s brothers and uncles stayed the night. So did some of the wives. Molly wasn’t there, however. After spending the weekend at St. Mungo’s with him, Arthur convinced her once again to go home for a night. Gran was with Gramps.

As Arthur tried to fall asleep in the chair, which was uncomfortable despite the fact he’d renewed the Cushioning Charm he’d placed on it days before, he couldn’t help ruminating over the fact that Gramps’s chances of recovery were slim to none now. The longer he sat there, the more it felt like the walls were closing in on him. Finally, he got a cigarette from Trenton, who had been nodding off, and bolted.

**oOoOo**

First thing next morning, Molly found herself passing the familiar portraits hanging along the walls of St. Mungo’s. Ever since Arthur shared with her his fears about drinking, she didn’t want to leave him, even though he wouldn’t be alone; plenty of Weasley relatives were hanging around the hospital. The last thing anyone needed was for Arthur to go off and start drinking again. She wasn’t sure she could take it if that happened.

When she turned the corner and stepped over the threshold to the private waiting room, she immediately noticed Arthur missing from his corner. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Where’s Arthur?” she asked Desmond, who was nearest her. 

“I haven’t seen him this morning,” he quietly answered so as not to wake Paulene, who was still asleep with her head resting on his shoulder.

Ian yawned and stretched a few seats away. He looked around blearily. “’Morning, Molly. Arthur having a bit of a lie in today?” he mumbled groggily.

“He’s not been home.”

Ian’s eyes shot open. In an instant, he was completely alert. “What do you mean? He left a few hours ago.”

Molly’s stomach plummeted. “He didn’t come home,” she said, a slight tremor in her voice.

Ian hopped up. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he said, “I’m sure he’s okay. Trent talked to him last. He might know where he went.” He glanced around the room. “Where is Trent, Desmond?”

“Back with Gran and Gramps.”

While they waited for Trenton to come out, Ian got Molly to sit down. Alexander and Margaret joined them, but Neil was still sleeping.

About ten minutes later, Trenton strode in. Despite the early hour and a handful of people still asleep, he announced loudly, “Gramps is awake, and he’ll be in tip-top shape in no time!” The atmosphere lightened in an instant. Sighs of relief and broad grins broke out around the room.

Even though Molly was just as pleased by this as everyone else, she had something more important on her mind. She marched right up to her other brother-in-law. “Trent, did Arthur say where he was going last night?” she asked, her worry accidentally coming across as anger more than anything else.

A bit taken aback by this abruptness, he pulled his head back and furrowed his brow at the little spitfire who was Molly Weasley. “Ididn’tdoanything,” he said so quickly it came out as a jumbled mess.

She blinked at him. “I didn’t say you did. Arthur never came home last night. He talked to you before he left.”

Visibly relaxing a little, Trenton scratched his temple. “Oh. He asked for a smoke, that’s all. I fell asleep almost as soon as I handed it to him.”

Her stomach in knots, she declined offers of help from her brothers-in-law and hurried out. She couldn’t think of where Arthur might be. All the bars and pubs were closed this early in the morning and would have made him leave when they closed, unless he got a room. He could be in an alley somewhere. She doubted he went out in public to drink anyway; she was sure he wouldn’t want to risk someone seeing him – But that’s if he was thinking clearly, which he most likely wouldn’t have been. Even though he never said he’d gotten rid of it, she didn’t think he still had the flat. The kids would have told her if he ended up at one of their houses. There was only one other definite place he could have gone.

So, she stepped into the green flames with that destination in mind.

**oOoOo**

In his grandparents’ basement, only a dim light shone from the end of his wand lying on the table before him as Arthur sat on an old, brown, leather sofa in the middle of the room, fixating on the bottle in his hands. The darkness that spread out in all directions created the illusion that the room did not stop at the house’s foundation, but continued into an endless expanse. Neither space nor time existed in this windowless, subterranean chamber.

For what felt like the thousandth time, not just that night but over the past several days, Arthur mentally went over why he should and why he should not take that first drink. He came to the same conclusion every time: It wasn’t worth it. But he desperately continued trying to convince himself otherwise.

Coming out of his paralytic state, he made a conscious effort to blink and unscrewed the bottle’s cap. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, hoping the scent of Firewhisky would force him to come to a different conclusion.

So consumed by his thoughts, the soft click of a door closing and footfalls on the stairs went unheard. A sudden light coming on from a lamp near the bottom of the stairs revealing the boundaries of the space also went unnoticed. The only thing that broke his trance was when a hand took the bottle from him, replaced the cap, and set it on the table.

His face crumpled when he looked up to see his wife standing before him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in the front of her dress, repeated apologies coming out in a muffled and garbled mess. She held him, her fingers moving soothingly through his hair. She bent over and placed her lips to the crown of his head, making soft shushing noises in an effort to comfort him.

After a short while, she gently pried his arms off her and slid down onto the sofa beside him. He furiously rubbed at his face, but stopped when she reached out with a finger and turned his chin toward her, his week-old beard prickly against her smooth skin.

She looked him in the eye. “Gramps woke up this morning. He’s going to be okay,” she stated firmly.

Arthur closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and made a noise somewhere between a strangled sob and a laugh. How close had he been to throwing everything away and it all have been for nothing?

“Is there anything you want to talk about? Is there anything we _should_ talk about?” Molly prompted softly.

“No, it’s just – everything.” He shrugged. ”It all got to me. I know I should have said something to someone, but – I don’t know.” He placed his elbows on his knees and rested his forehead on his hand in consternation. “This has never happened before. I’ve never had to fight the urge to get drunk like this.”

“I know.” She rubbed his back. “It may have been a long time coming.”

“But _why_? Why’d this have to happen to me? Why now, when I have everything to lose?”

She smiled sadly at him. “I don’t know, love.” After a moment, she confessed, “I still think if I’d done more when I first noticed you isolating yourself, all this could have been avoided.”

He looked at her. “Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself for my choices. You didn’t force a bottle into my hands – No one forced me to do anything. You shouldn’t have had to keep an eye on me in the first place. That responsibility never should have rested on your shoulders, but you’ve done it our entire marriage.”

“I knew what I was signing up for. It’s not like you hid anything from me. I remember when you told me about your family.”

“We were only kids then,” Arthur said dismissively.

“We were eighteen.”

“Exactly! We didn’t know anything. We were a couple of dumb kids who didn’t think everything through,” he said with more force than he intended.

Molly’s face fell. “Are you saying you regret marrying me?” she asked in barely a whisper.

For a split second, Arthur froze, completely caught off guard by her question and at a loss for how she inferred that from what he said. “What? No.” He shook his head. Shifting on the broken down cushions to better face her, he took her hands in his. “No, of course not. Molly, that’s not what I meant. I – I thought – maybe – _you_ regretted marrying _me_?” he stammered. “That you wished you’d listened to your parents?”

“I wouldn’t trade one day with you for a thousand with anyone else.” She ran a hand through his hair and let it rest on his neck. “And, no, we didn’t think everything through, we didn’t plan what to do if this happened, but that doesn’t matter; it’s just another bump in the road. We got married because we loved each other, and as long as that hasn’t changed –“

“It hasn’t.”

“I didn’t think so.” Cupping his cheek, she said, “Nothing can make me regret marrying you, and I will _never_ stop loving you, Arthur Weasley.”

“How did I get so lucky to have such a remarkable woman as my wife?” he murmured.

“And all this time I thought I was the lucky one.”

They shared a chaste kiss.

“Now, how does this sound?” Molly began, running her fingers through her husband’s already mussed hair. “I think there’s a meeting starting about now that you need to go to – And I can go with you and wait if you want.”

“Please.”

“Of course. After that, we’ll get you home so you can get cleaned up – those sink showers are not as good as the real thing – and you can get some much-needed rest. Then tomorrow, we will go and see Gramps, hmm?”

“That sounds perfect, but I want to see Gramps today.”

“Okay, but you are coming home afterwards,” she told him.

Before leaving, Molly put the bottle of Firewhisky back in the liquor cabinet behind the wet bar.

When they reached Room 731 at the Ministry, the meeting had already begun. Instead of having Molly wait in the hall for an hour, Arthur told her she could wait in his office on Level Three and gave her directions. She found it easily enough and waited, impressed by the incredible improvement from his old office, which had been the size of a large broom cupboard. No one was in the department yet when she arrived, but a few trickled in while she waited. She chatted with Perkins a while before heading back to Level Seven in time for Arthur to come out.

Molly managed to convince him to go home to shower, shave, and change, saying it would probably be later that afternoon before he could see Gramps anyway. 

A few hours later, Arthur stood before the door to his grandfather’s hospital room with Molly holding his hand beside him. He knocked, then entered.

Gramps was sitting up in bed, propped against several pillows, and Gran was perched on the edge of the bed. Gramps didn’t look as bad as Arthur expected; it was clear he’d lost a few pounds, but even though he was barrel-chested and built like a bull, he’d had a few pounds to spare, thanks to his appetite for Gran’s cooking.

“Arthur!” Gramps beamed. Gran looked relieved to see him; now, whether that was because she knew he’d disappeared or because he looked better after having a proper shower and a shave was unclear.

Arthur didn’t meet either of his grandparents’ eyes. “Hi, Gramps. How’re you feeling?”

“A bit sore, but no worse for wear.”

“How much longer are they keeping you in here?”

“Oh, couple of days. But that’s only to make sure everything is alright with my noggin. They’re almost certain I’ll make a full recovery.”

“That’s great.” He gave a strained smile, still looking anywhere but directly at his grandparents. “Er – Gran, Gramps…there’s something you should know about the roof.”

“We already know, dear,” Gran said. “Trent told us.”

“W-What did he say?” Arthur’s heart pounded in his chest. While he was dreading telling his grandparents the truth, he would much rather tell them himself than them hear it from someone else.

“He took full responsibility because he had been goofing off one night,” Gramps answered.

“That –That’s all he said?”

“That’s the short version, but yes.”

“That’s not the whole story.” He let go of Molly’s hand and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “We never would’ve been out there if it wasn’t for me.”

“Trent didn’t say anything about anyone else,” Gran said.

“Well, I was there, too,” he confessed, staring at the foot of the bed, “and it was ultimately my fault. I just – I didn’t know until recently. I ended up getting drunk on Halloween – Trent didn’t have anything to do with that, no one encouraged me,” he added hastily about the drinking. “And not only because of that, but I said I’d help you fix it and never did. The truth is, Gramps, you’re in here because of me. I’m sorry.”

Silence fell over them, but it was only tense to Arthur. He continued to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes.

This was what he’d been afraid of – He discovered the threshold of his grandparents’ understanding and forgiveness. Perhaps that’s why he hadn’t seen Trenton since he’d returned to the hospital. Gran and Gramps didn’t want to see Trenton and now they wouldn’t want to see him either.

After what felt like an eternity, but in reality, was less than a minute, Arthur scratched his head and stammered. “I’ll, um, I’ll just – I’ll just go now.”

Before he even made it a step, Gran said, “Arthur.”

But he didn’t stop.

“Arthur,” Gramps called after him. When Arthur still kept going, Gramps silently gestured to Molly to stop him.

Just as Arthur reached the door, Molly’s hand slipped into his. He stopped and turned his head to see her looking up at him with pleading eyes. She squeezed his hand. After taking a deep breath, he let her lead him back into the room.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Gran said, patting the bed.

Reluctantly, he obeyed.

Once he sat down on the end of the bed, Gran placed a hand on his knee. For a minute, he studied the baseboard in front of him with clenched teeth, then he looked up at Molly, wearing an expression that silently let her know how badly he needed her. She came closer and rested her hands on his shoulder, gently massaging it with her fingertips. Even though he gained some comfort from this, he was trembling just below the surface. Teeth still clenched, he stared at the hand on his knee with great apprehension, like it posed a threat to him, which had never been the case.

“We’re not upset,” Gran said.

“And we’re not disappointed,” Gramps added.

When Arthur still didn’t make a move, Gran said, “You can look at us. We’re not basilisks, you know.”

For the first time since he’d entered the room, he looked directly at his grandparents. “How can you not hate me?”

“You’re our grandson – more like a son, as you now know and have been recently reminded. Besides, the roof may have already been weak – it’s an old barn, after all – and it’s really my stubbornness that landed me in here. You’re grandmother has been telling me for years I need to slow down – and you mentioned something along those lines a few months ago.

“We’re going to tell you what we told your brother,” Gramps continued. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. This was no one’s fault. No lasting harm was done – if anything, some sense got knocked into this old man – But we are proud that you came forward and told us what happened.”

Arthur’s built-up anxiety melted away. He still felt guilty, but having his grandparents tell him it wasn’t his fault and that they didn’t blame him made a huge impact.

Arthur and Molly visited a few more minutes before heading back to the Burrow. As soon as they got home, Arthur crawled straight into bed, completely and utterly exhausted, despite it only being three in the afternoon, and slept for a good twenty-odd hours.


End file.
